Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives, season 2
by takisys
Summary: Just as Jack and Ianto seemed to find each other, all Hell broke loose and released Abadon.  After a promising kiss, Jack ran away with the Doctor.Okay my seasons aren't completely compatible with the TV show season.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2

Between dream and reality (1/5 parts)

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato and Gwen Cooper.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Spoilers:** only if you've never watched Doctor Who and Torchwood. (Silly grin)

**Author's note:** Just as Jack and Ianto seemed to find each other, all Hell broke loose and released Abadon. After a promising kiss, Jack ran away with the Doctor. You'll find out that my seasons aren't completely compatible with the TV show season. It's mainly because I'm not trying to tell another version of the show, but a story of its own.

**Season 2** begins with the first day after the year that never was.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarinakit ty

...

He woke up with a start, everything staggering around him. It wasn't a mere loss of balance, but true vertigo. The kind giving you the feeling of being on a fairground ride running at full speed. He clung hard to whatever his hands had found, focusing on his breathing, and not daring to open his eyes.

Slowly but surely the world around him began to slow down. Ianto was pretty sure he hadn't got pissed. Not only could he not remember drinking, it didn't feel like a hangover. He wasn't even sure where he was and what the last thing he'd done was. Thinking of it, what day was this? He tentatively opened one eye. He was home sitting or more precisely slumped on his sofa; the TV was on, but muted.

He must have fall asleep on the couch and had had the worst nightmare of his whole life. Something about the new Prime Minister being a mad alien taking over the world, helped by an army of small spheres. He shivered and found the remote. A reporter was speaking on the screen. Ianto gave her back her voice.

"The curfew will be maintained until further notice. Authorities are calling the population to remain calm. A crisis has been met, and new elections will be held very shortly... "

What the hell was this about? Okay, it's looked like the American president being murdered on the Prime Minister order wasn't just part of his nightmare... Yes, but that was just before the Master set the Toclofane on the world population.

That wasn't making any sense and what about new elections? Of course, if the Prime Minister had really killed the President... Don't be silly Ianto, you got pissed or someone has put something in your drink...

He tried another channel.

He didn't know which felt more unreal; being here, in front of his TV, channel surfing, or Toclofane, the Earth enslaved by a psychopath Time Lord, and Jack ... Jack chained like an animal!

"The death of both the American President and the Prime Minister of Great Britain ... "

Saxon was dead? Ianto couldn't feel anything but relieved: the Master of his nightmare was dead. God this was getting ridiculous. None of the reporters had talked about Saxon killing the President. Both men had died in a terrorist attack.

Ianto stood up somewhat unsteadily and walked to the window. Outside the city was slowly waking.

Cardiff had not been burned to ashes. All this had been a nightmare... Just an awful nightmare.

His own apartment seemed almost foreign, reality looked so fragile, so unreal. He glanced at the coffee machine with tenderness, and made good strong coffee. He would need it; it would help him to keep hold of his wits. He drank the beverage with intense pleasure, as he'd enjoyed his eggs with bacon. It was like he hadn't been able to have a proper breakfast in weeks, or months.

What a horrible nightmare! He'd had a lot, but had never felt this way before.

He prepared himself, shaved, and showered with a feeling of longing. He tasted everything with a strange pleasure and a certain anxiety. It was very disturbing, but he couldn't help it. He was almost surprised not to find the ugly scar on his face that a Toclofane shot had left...

Reality seemed strangely intangible and extremely fragile, he was afraid of waking up to find himself back in his nightmare.

He took the stairs and greeted Miss Purple on his way down. It was unlikely that was her name, but that's what Jack used to call her.

He walked through his neighbourhood like a stranger, astonished at every detail, and his heart filled with gratitude beyond understanding. And when he reached the Roald Dahl place, he found himself wanting to run, jump, and shout his joy loudly... It was insane.

His city was still here, rising proudly towards the sky, and the huge ugly scar tearing the sky apart had just been an absurd nightmare.

"Hello, Rhi? Are you okay? No, I needed to hear your voice. Tell you how much I love you... no, no I'm fine, I swear! I love you. No, don't worry, I'm fine, really, didn't want to bother you..."

Reacting this way wasn't like him. He used to have a lot of nightmares, awful nightmares. He had dreamed of apocalypses more than once and had never felt so relieved to be awake. At least, never like this...

The feeling didn't go away. It was still there when he walked into the fake tourist office and it followed him down into the lowered part of the Hub. As if he was coming back after a long time away. He turned on all the terminals, activating sensors, scanners, and all the other weird detecting and recording stuff, alien or not, within the Hub. He needed to know what was wrong; he didn't know if it was the world or him, but something was definitely wrong.

He opened the hatch to Myfanwy's lair and fed her chocolate while monitoring the results of his search: nothing! Nothing seemed to have happened, except for the _accidental_ death of the two politicians aboard the Valiant...

He was there, all alone standing in the middle of the Hub, sharing chocolate with a pterodactyl. He began to wonder if he should consult a psychiatric when his phone rang.

"Hi mate! Not too busy? It looks like you were right to miss the plane. We found no trace of Jack ever having been there. We'll do our best to come back as soon as possible, but it's chaos here. Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just the usual routine... What about you?"

"Some frostbite. Gwen has caught a cold, and Saxon is lucky he's dead because, I swear, I'd gladly have had a word with him."

"Yes, I can imagine."

"And you, how are you? You sure you okay? You sound weird...?"

"I'm fine, Owen. Waiting for you, the three of you."

Ianto hung up. He never thought he would ever be so pleased to hear Owen's voice. It was ridiculous! But when he closed his eyes, he couldn't wipe away the image of Owen's calcined body amid Cardiff ruins.

Ianto spent the rest of the day listening to the radio, jumping from one news channel to another. He had tried to get information from UNIT, but they seemed to be under a total lockdown. He tried to sort his memories, but it was getting more and more blurred and incoherent, like a dream fading in the morning. That should indeed prove it was nothing but a nightmare. But none of his nightmares had ever left him in such a state of shock.

Ianto welcomed his colleagues return with fresh coffee, sweets, and sandwiches. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Looks like someone is asking for forgiveness," Owen said.

"Stop it Owen, he just missed the plane," Tosh said.

"Yeah, right. Of course. The man who's never late, huh?"

"I must admit I did it in purpose. I thought someone had to stay. The rift didn't exactly sleep during your absence and I have been really busy."

"Right. You wanted to be here if our beloved Captain came in through the back door."

"Weren't you supposed to be fetching him?" Ianto replied mockingly, he was still too light headed to dryly answer Owen's bantering. "Anyway, he won't come back," he added.

There was no anger, no bitterness in his voice, just sadness. No, Jack would not return.

The others had no idea. When Jack disappeared into the vortex with the Tardis they hadn't really understood what had happened, or what it meant. They knew nothing of the origins of Torchwood nor of the Doctor, and that's why Jack had chosen them. That was exactly the reason he didn't want anyone from London.

"Don't say that, Ianto," Gwen said.

Even assuming Jack could come back, why would he? They had killed him. They'd disobeyed and opened the rift, releasing Abadon on Earth. If it wasn't for Jack being ready to give up his immortality and life, Earth would now be a dead stone. Jack was dead for eleven days. From what Ianto knew, Jack never stayed dead more than a few minutes, except when his body was completely destroyed, in which case it could take several hours for him to come back.

At the time, while Owen couldn't explain why Jack's body wasn't decaying, Ianto was caught between conflicting feelings. He knew very well that Jack's immortality was a terrible curse. He knew very well Jack had been running purposely to his death. He knew very well Jack wanted it to be the last one, the last time. But Ianto couldn't prevent himself from hoping Jack would come back, it was selfish, but he wasn't ready to lose him.

And then Jack woke up. He hugged them all, one by one, in a forgiving embrace and then there was that fucking kiss ... Of course, at the time, like the others, he was so relieved at Jack being alive and once again forgiving that he didn't mind the display of affection, even if he had been a bit surprised.

But, as they went out to collect some takeaway coffee, the Doctor and his Tardis showed up and Jack threw himself into the vortex in its wake. While the others were still checking if Jack was somewhere in the Hub, Ianto had watched the CCTV records of the Plass to find Jack running like a mad man. Ianto watched and rewatched the records.

The Doctor had landed his Tardis right on top of them, but as soon as Jack had been in sight he had restarted engines and left. Jack didn't even take the time to think about it, he just threw himself into the vortex after him. There was no way to say if he had managed to get to the Time Lord, no way to be sure he wasn't trapped forever in the vortex.

Ianto never told the other; he erased the records. They didn't need to know the truth, running Torchwood without Jack would be hard enough.

"He will come back, Ianto, We'll find him," Gwen said with a motherly tone.

The kiss seemed to have changed his status within the team. For Gwen it had been a shock; she had never guessed. Tosh already knew, that girl played way too much with the CCTV. As for Owen, he had always suspected something was going on between them, he had more than once call him Jack's part time shag. Jack kissing him in front of the other had, in some way, made _their_ relationship official.

Problem was it never was a _relationship_. It was friendship, sex, and fun, nothing more.

Of course, he would miss Jack, but just like his teammates.

Strangely, and perhaps of that stupid dream, Ianto now had the feeling that Jack had managed to find his Doctor, and would be fine.

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2

Between dream and reality (2/5 parts)

**POV:** from Jack's point of view. (And a small part from Sam's)

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack Harkness, the Doctor, Martha and the Tardis.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Spoilers:** only if you've never watched Doctor Who and Torchwood. (Silly grin)

**Summary:** The Year That Never Was is over, but Jack is still on the Valliant, it's cleaning time.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kit ty

...

Jack was sitting staring at his meal tray in the officer's restaurant, and was now playing with the chilling potatoes mash. The funny thing was while he was starving he couldn't bring himself to eat.

"May I?" Sam asked.

Sam was the security chief and he happened to be the highest ranking officer amongst the survivors: the Veterans of the End of the World, as Martha would call them. Sam used to be his friend-before all hell broke loose-or at least a guy with whom he had worked in the past, one of his contacts within UNIT.

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting down without waiting for an answer.

"Sorry?"Jack mumbled not even bothering to look at his interlocutor, struggling to understand why Sam would be sorry. As he had said, Sam had done his best to limit the damage, and it was true. But in this attempt Jack had often served as fodder: while the Master was playing with him, the mortals were safe, at least for the time being.

"The big guys want to know about the resistance leader's identity... His full name, and whatever you know about him ... Because just 'Jones' is a bit useless."

This got Jack's attention, he lifted his gaze from his plate to search for Sam's eyes. Jack had no problem looking the man in the eyes, but knew it wasn't the same for Sam, even if he was once again doing his best to conceal it.

"Why?" Jack asked. "This never happened, the resistance never existed, and they are all dead," he added.

"You know very well this last part is not true. They're alive, they don't know and will never know, and I'd say, in the end, they're the lucky ones."

The lucky ones. He'd been forced to watch when Tosh, Rhys and that young cop whose name he couldn't even remember were executed before his very eyes. As for Ianto...

"They're interested in his potential, they said," Sam said drawing him back in the present. "I think they want to offer him a job."

"Too late," Jack replied taking a mouthful of mash.

"Too late? Why's that?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Cause you're little thief is already working for me," Jack answered with a satisfied grin.

"Thief?" Sam caught on, realising what Jack had just said. The Master used to think, for some reason, that something was going on between Jack and this Mister Jones.

The man had displayed an arrogant bravery facing the Master where most men couldn't even manage to disobey him. With a handful of men he had managed to sort the only real resistance cell, proving to be efficient by helping Martha Jones in her wandering around the world.

The day Jones was arrested in London with what was left of his team the Master was overexcited, as sure as he was that Jack and this guy were lovers. The mad Time Lord had set up for them the kind of little show he enjoyed: on one side of the large conference room Jack properly chained, on the other Jones and his team.

The master himself executed the two women, an Asiatic and a tall brunette, as well as the men. Jack was fuming, but as usual he tried to conceal it under sheer effrontery. That day, however, more than any other, it didn't feel right. Jones was more successful at luring in every one, displaying only disdain to the Master's face.

When the Master asked him about his feeling for Jack, Jones had raised an inquiring eyebrow before confessing that they were merely playmates.

"Really?" the Master asked coming by Jack's side to put the sonic screwdriver he used as a taser against Jack's neck. "Are you sure?" he asked again sending a pain through Jack's spine than even he was unable to bear.

"What do you want me to say?" Jones said with the same contempt he'd shown before.

"In fact, it's so not much about saying than it is showing," the Master replied.

Jones raised a scornful eyebrow and waited for the Master to tell him what this was about.

"I want a kiss, a passionate one, like you Humans do."

"You'd better kill me right now," Jones replied.

"Oh. You get me wrong, not me," the Master said with a distasteful grin. "Him."

As Jones seemed to consider the request, the Master again pointed the screwdriver at Jack's neck, the immortal kneeling beside the Time Lord still trying to regain his breath.

"Okay," Jones said walking to pull up the Captain into what looked like a passionate kiss, until he released him to grab the Master who had stayed a bit too close. The Master was perfectly subdued, Jones threatening to break his neck.

"Kill him!" Jack had yelled. "Kill him now!"

"Release him," Jones had demanded in response.

That had been his only mistake, but it was his last. He should have listened and obeyed Jack's order. As everyone else, Jones hadn't paid much attention to Lucy, the Master's wife, who looked like a junky. Before anyone realised, she had picked up the screwdriver rolling at her feet and shot Jones' shoulder with it. And it was over.

"The truck with the cybermen inside," Jack said, dragging Sam out of his memories.

"The man who stole our lorry? That man was the one who stole our lorry after Canary Wharf?"

"Yep!"

"I thought you said..."

"That he was not going be a problem again?"

"Yes, that's what you said."

"In fact, believe it or not, I figured that a guy who had the nerve and skill to steal a truck out from under UNIT's nose might had have potential."

Of course, Jack didn't mention the hiding a cybermen right under _his_ nose for weeks part.

"I should go," Sam said, as he had spotted the Doctor coming toward them. He stood up, respectfully greeting the Time Lord before leaving the place.

"Captain."

"Doc."

For once, he had stayed instead of running away as he usually did. Jack had insisted he stay and help until the situation had been sorted at least a little. The Tardis was in a very bad state and needed to be taken care of anyway

"How is she doing?"

"She has been viciously raped and she still hurts, Jack," the Time Lord replied sadly. "However, she's worried about you, she's calling for you."

"Didn't you say she was running from me when she took us to the End of Time? That she couldn't stand the aberration I became?"

"I may have misinterpreted," the Doctor replied with a somewhat confused grin.

Just like the others, the Doctor seemed to have problems looking him in the eyes, but in this case Jack wasn't sure what to think of it. Was it because he was _wrong_, or was it because he had taken everything that had been done to him without complaining?

The Doctor was still standing there, waiting, hands deep in his trousers pockets, dancing from one foot to the other with impatience or discomfort, possibly both.

Jack knew the Doctor had suffered his part during that much too long year, and didn't want to bother him. He'd managed to ate three spoons of his mash; it was more than he had these last days.

They walked side by side to the deck where the Tardis was waiting. They walked in silence like two exhausted veterans of a battle won over a price almost more than they can bear. There was just nothing to say, nothing useful or meaningful.

Since Jack had forcefully ripped down the paradox machine from her, he had not tried to come aboard the Tardis. The Doctor stopped by the doors letting Jack walking in first. The Captain, as always, felt like a kid standing there in this doorway staring at the beeping bridge. He waited making sure he was accepted, a faint but welcoming purr answered his worry. He gently stroked the wall at hand in an attempt to reach the Tardis' mind.

_*Tashee,*_ he called her, wondering if the Doctor had figured out, he had known her name for a long time.

The purr deepened bringing tears to Jack's eyes. He would have sworn he had no more left.

"I better go and have a look at what they are on about in the conference room," the Doctor said from the threshold. "Be quiet and don't do anything I won't," he said with a knowing smile before leaving them alone.

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2

Between dream and reality (3/5 parts)

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack/Ianto, Owen, Tosh et Gwen.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Spoilers:** only if you've never watched Doctor Who and Torchwood. (Silly grin)

**Summary:** The Year That Never Was is over. Of course the Torchwood team don't even know what happened, even if Ianto still feels something is wrong.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kit ty

…..

Ianto woke up in Jack's lair, as he'd come to call it. It still smelt of the Captain, it had permeated the walls and furniture. A pleasant spicy and salty scent slightly intoxicating and loaded with longing. When he was on-duty, Ianto slept down there. As did Gwen. At first, he had been a little upset, feeling like she was intruding, but he didn't argue and let her do it. As for Owen and Tosh, they preferred to sleep on the sofa upstairs in the main area.

Ianto had pushed aside Jack's stuff to make a place where he and Gwen could store their belongings and toiletries.

For the first time in years, nothing had disturbed the night, not even nightmares. In fact he hadn't had any since the two politicians had died, already eight days ago. Life had resumed its course, here as elsewhere.

He went up in to the main Hub and into the kitchenette to put the coffee on. He then opened the hatch to Myfanwy's nest and picked up the phone.

"Tom?" The question was pure rhetorical, their lines were secure and neither was the kind to share their phones. "Any luck on your end?" he asked.

"We found Roberts and Kergen, but Dean and Smith were both victims of _unfortunate_ accidents," Tom told him.

"That was to be expected. Will you take care of the families?"

"I've already done the necessary, don't worry." Tom replied. "Did you hear anything new?"

"All links are locked or down. I can't get more than the official version and only the official version," Ianto replied disgusted.

"Same here. But, about Archangel, you were right; they started to dismantle it, a malfunction they said."

"I've been told," Ianto sighed. From the start he had been worried by that worldwide system. He even tried to get Jack to look into it, but he'd never had the time. "Give Esther my regards," he added before hanging up.

Piece by piece, with Tom's help, he would rebuild the network Saxon has dismantled during his short stay in Great Britain's government. Ianto couldn't accept the official story, because it didn't explain why Saxon had struck that hard against the Shadow, having most of its founding members assassinated. If Ianto hadn't benefited from Torchwood's infrastructure, all his associates would have died in unfortunate accidents, including himself. Now, Saxon was dead and they were rebuilding.

He drank his first cup of coffee and shared his breakfast with Myfanwy. He was spending much more time with her since Jack's departure. Strangely, he had had much more time for a lot of things since Jack had run off...

He took his phone and called Amy, inviting her to a restaurant. If the rift allowed he'd be free tonight, as it was Owen's turn to be on guard.

That was something he should have thanked Jack for. Amy, not Owen.

When he returned from London, Amy had stayed away. Well, at first there was Lisa, and Ianto had kept his distance for fear of confiding unwelcomed secrets to her. Amy was very talented at gaining one's trust-she should have been a cop. Ianto had only resumed contact with the gang after Lisa's death, or more precisely after Kate's, Amy young cousin.

It was after the charity prom night that he and Amy had reconnected. She was in very good mood after her first dance with Jack. He'd paid for another dance, just for fun, but icing on the cake was that he'd came back from the broom closet covered with Jack's scent. A little later, while preparing to take leave of the young lady as a perfect gentleman, having escorted her back home, she grabbed his bowtie to pull him in. It was a very promising first move, and Ianto had not been disappointed with the follow up. Jack's pheromones undoubtedly had good side! Between Jack and Amy, Ianto had a hard time recovering the deposit for his tuxedo

Since then, Ianto had been seeing Amy on regular basis. Amy was a girl who loved to enjoy her uninhibited freedom and granted her partner the right to do as well; they were made for each other.

Ianto send Myfanwy back to her hatch and prepared coffee for the team, the rest of the day was calm. The morning, being rather quiet, allowed them to update paperwork.

In the afternoon, they had to intervene when a blob had decided to go shopping in one of the largest malls in the city. Owen, having already dealt with one of these creatures, knew the solution: caustic soda! Particularly disgusting but very effective!

The longest and most painful part was the clean-up that followed. They had to pick up five cans of 80 pints of highly corrosive slime. They subsequently transported it to a local incinerator, Ianto having flatly refused to spend the night watching over the Hub's incinerator. He had other plans for the evening.

When they arrived back Owen, as the one on duty, dropped Tosh and Gwen off near the car park where they had left their cars, and dropped Ianto off near where he usually walked across the Plass, before heading back to the Hub for the night. If Ianto hadn't been so eager to go home to change and join Amy, he probably would have noticed the blue phone police box that sat a few yards from the water tower...

...

Ianto was barely out of the shower when the phone rang.

"I hope you didn't have plans for the evening, because we have a blowfish playing car rodeo downtown. I'll be at your front door in five minutes."

"Great," he answered, finishing putting on his trousers. He called Amy to tell her their evening was off and finished dressing.

He got outside just in time to see the SUV stop in front of him. They went to pick up the girls, and the hunt began in the Cardiff streets only to finish in a small house in the suburbs.

Jack's showing up unexpectedly had undoubtedly been the highlight of the evening but had destabilized Ianto more than he would have guessed.

From there, everything had gone askew and the events spreading over the night didn't give Ianto any time to reflect. The rift, however, granted him a favour: it reset time.

"Gwen, Tosh, with me," Owen told the girls, casting a glance at Jack and towards Ianto.

With that, they found themselves alone. As soon as the three others had disappeared, Jack resumed that somewhat awkward attitude he sometime had when they were alone as when he asked if Ianto would go out on a date with him. On that one, Jack took him completely by surprise and he'd heard himself answer, "yes!"

This finished destabilizing him and then Gwen told him what had happen between them. Between her and Jack. She wasn't sure what she should think of it, but she felt uncomfortable and she preferred to talk to Ianto about it. Gwen had become strangely protective of him since Jack's departure.

Gwen was sweetly romantic sometimes and Ianto wasn't jealous. But then, in this particular circumstance, Ianto felt as if he was a mere substitute, or as Owen used to say, a part-time shag. In fact, strangely, Ianto could do with being a part-time shag-even if preferred to think of them as playmates-, but being a substitute felt insulting.

He never asked Jack for more, and had never promised anything either. He wasn't against sharing, even with Gwen, but he had his pride, and didn't want to be an _alternative_.

"So, what do we do?" Jack asked, with a worried look.

"You can't go back to the Hub. I better take you home with me," Ianto replied flatly, taking the SUV's wheel.

"I like the sound of that," Jack replied, taking the passenger seat.

"Who's Gray?" Ianto asked, rather dryly. There was no reason for Jack to be less elusive now than he was before and Ianto wanted to put some distance between them.

"My brother, just my brother," Jack replied with a slightly broken voice.

"Your brother?" That wasn't something Ianto would have expected.

"Long story ..."

"I should have guessed," Ianto said with a sarcastic tone. How could he have possibly believed, even for a second, that Jack would be more incline to tell him anything personal if he didn't have to?

"Ianto ..."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

An awkward silent settled between them like a third passenger and followed them all the way to Ianto's place. Jack seemed lost and didn't understand Ianto's change of mood, but Ianto couldn't bring himself to explain it here and now.

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2

**Between dream and reality** (4/5 parts)

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack/Ianto, the Doctor, Martha, the Tardis.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Spoilers:** only if you've never watched Doctor Who and Torchwood. (Silly grin)

**Summary:** The Year That Never Was is over; the Doctor had left Jack alone with the Tardis, while down on Earth the Torchwood team is having a quiet day.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

Jack woke up in his Tardis room, or at least the room that used to be his back when he was still mortal, during the fantastic, but too short, six months he had travelled with Rose and the Doctor. Martha was there, sitting by the edge of his bed and looking at him with a benevolent smile.

"Hello. How's the sleeping beauty doing?" she asked.

"Hello," he replied still sleepy. "I'm not too sure how I got here..."

"Regardless, it was a great idea; you obviously needed to have a proper sleep."

"Did I miss something? Am I late?"

"More than late, Jack, you've slept over 48 hours!"

"No," Jack replied not buying it. "I never sleep more than an hour or two."

"You slept exactly 49 hours and 24 minutes according to the Tardis," the Doctor pointed out. He was standing near the door but Jack hadn't noticed him until then.

"We were getting a little worried. It-,"Martha started but corrected herself, "_she _wouldn't let us in."

The Doctor stared at Jack with a funny look, a look clearly asking, _what the hell did you do with my ship_?

He could remember staying awhile on the bridge, reconnecting and comforting each other. During that long year, he had often heard her silently screaming, and she had often heard him crying when he was alone. They both were two broken freaks suffering from injuries others couldn't see. He might have fallen asleep but he vaguely remembered being gently wrapped in her tenderness and then nothing.

"I may have fallen asleep," he said, looking at the Doctor with a cheering smile. The Doctor had suffered his share-Jack knew that very well, he was there after all-but he still had trouble with how the Doctor was effected by the other Time Lord's death. The Master had killed, butchered, and tortured, but Jack was the freak, the aberration, and a cosmic one. Jack wasn't likely to ever forget it. There hadn't been a day during that year when the Master hadn't reminded him.

"You didn't miss anything, apart from a lot of talking. Nothing more to do here, it's time to leave," the Doctor said trying to sound joyful but failing miserably, at least to Jack.

"Where are we going?"Jack asked.

"Where ever you want! Where do you want to go, Jack? Your choice!"

"I... I just want to go home," he managed to whisper, tears threatening.

"Fine! Your choice," the Doctor replied with a comforting grin. "Martha ... well, you should take Jack to the kitchen, keep him company and make sure he has a snack. I let you know when we're there."

Jack went to the kitchen with Martha. She prepared tea and take-out scones with butter and jam. He just nibbled asking for news of her family. She told him they were back home and would benefit from psychological support, as would the other veterans. She asked him what the fifty-first century was like and he replied with a reassuring smile: same as anything else.

After what seemed like a short time, the Doctor called for them and they went to join him on the bridge. When they passed the threshold of the Tardis' door to find themselves on Roald Dahl Plass, Jack's heart swept in his chest and started beating wildly. Baffled, he turned to the Doctor with questioning eyes.

"Didn't you say you wanted to go home? Did I misinterpret?" the Doctor asked with a satisfied grin.

Jack wasn't sure anymore of what he'd meant, home was a word that had lost meaning for so long. He wasn't sure he still belonged in this world or had a right to; he was a fixed point. But, right now, he was here, just above the Hub, his Hub. This was home, or at least what had been home in his heart for quite awhile now. This was where he belonged, with his team, his family, Ianto...

They walked aimlessly through the city. He needed to reconnect with it, make sure it was okay, and Martha had never been there. Showing her the city, his beautiful city, wandering through the streets with her and the Doctor, his heart was getting lighter, making him happy.

When the Tardis had refuelled, they parted. Jack was eager to join his small team, he wanted to hug them see for himself that they were alive and well.

...

He went into the Hub. Things had changed, but not that much. He found his office as he had left it, nothing had changed. The usual stack of paperwork was in its place, but it was updated and bearing his signature. He smiled; Ianto was very good at doing his signature. He should have been worried about it, been offended, but he wasn't. He just wanted to hug him, breathing his smell, feel his warmth, hear his heart beat, watch him breath.

He was a little disappointed to find the Hub empty. He opened Myfanwy's hatch and shared a chocolate bar with her, then sent her back to her nest. Where could they be?

He went down to his room to freshen up and found a razor and hairbrush on the bathroom shelf, as well as two toothbrushes in a glass. He opened his closet to find a three-piece suit and denims much too small for Ianto, along with a thong and a bra that had no chance of belonging to the young man, even in his dreams.

Perplexed, Jack sat on his cot. He sniffed the pillow, it smelled of Ianto ... He lie down on it and was quick to fall asleep.

An alarm woke him, at first a bit disoriented. He went back to the main area, but no one was there. However, remnants of a kebab and a beer left on the edge of Owen workstation, proved they had come back while he slept. He noticed a board with what was clearly shift rota. He neutralized the alarm Janet had triggered by getting excited alone in her cell. The police radio was still on and reporting a race between a 4x4 and a sports car, patrol cars were not to interfere. It was them; he had found them.

...

At first, Jack was quite proud of his entry. But that didn't last and soon he was disappointed as, save the first surprise, the team merely ignored him and regained control of the situation. He felt dropped, disconnected, trolling and Gwen did nothing to help. He'd found them all very defensive and, for once, Ianto was the least aggressive. At least in the beginning. Jack had tried to explain a little, but at first he'd been clumsy. If that weren't enough, John, or Geb, arrived out of nowhere, without warning, and brought to the surface an inconvenient past Jack wished was buried for good.

The only positive point was Ianto agreeing on going out on a date with him. Then there was the explosion repositioning time. John was finally gone, and so was the rest of the team. He was alone with Ianto. But Ianto had reverted to cold distant mode and Jack couldn't bring himself to understand why. What had he done? What hadn't he said? Was it because of Geb kissing him?

Ianto drove him home. They spent the journey in painful silence. When they got to Ianto's flat, the young man helped him out of his coat.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked.

"I…I do not know," he replied, not feeling comfortable at all.

"You don't know if you're hungry? I'm hungry, I'll prepare something," Ianto replied coldly. "While I do that, you should have a shower. You still remember where it is?"

Of course he still knew where the shower was. It would have been difficult to get lost in Ianto's small two-room flat ... But Jack would rather have shared the shower with his host. This didn't bode well for the rest of the night in Jack's mind and the feeling was reinforced when Ianto brought him a towel along with a T-shirt and boxers for the night. Wearing only these, he joined Ianto in the kitchenette, where a plate was waiting for him.

"Will you have a beer or just water?" Ianto asked.

"Water, just water, it smell good," he said.

"It's just leftovers," Ianto replied, still defensive.

They sat down and started eating in silence. He would have given anything to break the silence. He wondered what he could do or say ... He had to do something, make a move; this was getting unbearable! If he could give him something, a bit of himself, maybe...

"Gray, my brother..." he hesitated, then seeing that he had at least succeeded in capturing the young man's interest, he continued. "We were living in a tiny multispecies colony, on a small aquatic world removed from major inter-galactic roads, a secluded paradise, nonviolent, a haven of peace ..."

Intrigued, Ianto was now listening.

"In the spring, after school, all the children, would go to the beach to collect the shellfish hidden in the sand, it was a treat, much appreciated, our after-school snack."

Ianto was staring at him without saying anything, but seemed to give in a little.

"It happened on a spring day. They attacked us. There were hundreds of children on that beach. Gray was eight, I was twelve. We ran like the others kids, but there was no shelter, just sand and the ocean. I fell and when I got up ... I was surrounded by corpses, hundreds of them. There were only a dozen survivors; the others had been killed or kidnapped. I looked for my brother for hours on the beach and when I went back to what was left of our city, it was to find my father had been killed," Jack stopped there, exhausted, emptied and watching Ianto with apprehension.

The young man stood up and started clearing the table.

"It's getting late and we're both tired," Ianto said in a softer tone.

"I can do that. You should shower, your turn," Jack suggested.

Ianto agreed and let him clear up his kitchen.

Jack was, however, unable to ease the knot that settled in his chest. He joined Ianto as he was coming out of the shower, naked and utterly gorgeous. His body still wet, Ianto drew him close and sought his mouth. Jack stiffened. It wasn't deliberate, just a reflex, he needed softness, tenderness, and that wasn't Ianto strong point.

Suddenly, Jack realized he was afraid, afraid of the young man's aggressiveness, and at the same the only thing he really wanted was to be in his arms, feel his warmth...

"What did happen to you, Jack? What have you been through?"

Jack didn't know how to answer, feeling too vulnerable and too exhausted. But Ianto didn't insist. He kissed him and took him gently to bed, there they nestled against each other and fell asleep.

To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2

**Between dream and reality** (5/5 parts)

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack/Ianto.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Spoilers:** only if you've never watched Doctor Who and Torchwood. (Silly grin)

**Summary:** Ianto ponders about what could possibly had happen to Jack while was away with the Doctor.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

Beta :**czarina_kitty**

…**.**

Ianto watched Jack sleeping. He'd been awake for a while. The sun was already up and Jack was still asleep ... He knew from experience that Jack only slept sparsely and never for long, an hour or two at most...

The thought brought back the memory of his nightmare - Jack chained, tortured onboard the Valiant. Silly, it was just a dream, a dreadful nightmare, but nothing real.

But still, something had happened to him, to Jack, something terrible. Ianto had spent enough time in the third basement archives to know what Jack had been through during the last fifty years, before Annabel had inherited Torchwood Three's command. And apart from the transplant case, nothing had been able to put him off balance.

Ianto had become aware of his distress when Jack started talking about his brother. He'd _felt _him so vulnerable. In fact, until Jack left, Ianto had never been able to _feel _him. He was a stone wall, just like Myfanwy. But since he'd come back, he was completely different, as if the wall was cracking and allowing waves of overwhelming emotion to pass. It was so strong that Ianto had needed some time to adjust. His first reflex had been to raise his own barrier to maximum and, as he was pretty upset with Jack, he didn't try to sort out what was going on before Jack had started talking of Gray.

Something was definitely wrong with Jack.

And what about the reaction he had had when he'd wanted to drag him in for sex? That was nothing like the Captain he knew, more of a virgin or a victim of violence...

Ianto was mechanically playing with Jack's hair, wondering how much time could have elapsed for him. Then, Jack finally opened sleepy eyes.

"Hi!"

"Um, hello," Jack replied sheepishly and still looking a little worried.

Ianto smiled, gently stroking his cheek.

"Coffee?" he asked, gently pressing against Jack to show him that he had nothing against other options. This time, Jack didn't cringe, but he didn't respond as he should have either. Not only didn't his legendary virility show its interest, but Jack threw him a destabilizing shy look.

"What the hell did happen to you ...?" It wasn't really a question, and Ianto wasn't expecting an answer, certainly not here and there. No, it was just a way to say, you've been hurt and I am aware of it.

He placed a chaste kiss on his temple, then on his forehead. Jack was still looking like a frightened animal, but he seemed to expect more; even if he was a little apprehensive, but he was clearly waiting for more. With great care and a lot of tenderness, Ianto covered him with kisses, sweet as a silk caress.

With a lot of patience, and relying on his emphatic ability, Ianto untied Jack's curled body with butterfly kisses, until Jack was sufficiently reassured to indulge his own desire. Then, and only then, they made love tenderly, slowly, never breaking eyes contact. Then Jack fell asleep in his arms again.

Ianto got up. They had come to where the time loop ended and Gwen would soon worry about not seeing Jack at the Hub. Now that everything had settled down, Ianto wasn't sure Jack would be able to deceive the team much longer. Even if Jack had always been more inclined to lower the mask when alone with him, Ianto could tell Jack was suffering some sort of post-traumatic shock and needed time.

Ianto resolved to call Gwen and bargain some time with Jack.

"Gwen! Hello, how are you? That is, if you don't really need us, I mean ... yes, you see ... um, no, thank you, okay, trust me ... thank you! You're great!"

Gwen was definitely a great romantic hiding it well. In the present case, he found it nice. With any luck, the rift would also be on their side. He brewed coffee and prepared breakfast, even if it was closer to noon.

"Hey, beauty!" he call getting back to his room, where Jack was hiding under the duvet.

"?"

"Coffee?"

"Coffee? Yes, coffee!" Jack said in what was meant to be an eager tone but had a little desperate sound to Ianto's sensitive senses.

Ianto replied with a smile and a slap on the firm buttocks that peeked out from the bed.

"Hey, behave Mr. Jones!" Jack replied, with a more natural grin.

They had breakfast, talking mainly about work. Ianto had told Jack about the different cases they'd investigated since his departure. He's given him news from Flat Holm. Jack had listened studiously, occasionally asking details on few points, but Ianto felt his heart wasn't really in it.

"How long was it Jack? I mean, for you ..."

Jack had hesitated slightly before answering.

"A year more or less."

"Just one? Are you sure? If you said a century; I would have no trouble believing you ..."

He heaved a deep sigh but confirmed. "It's been a long year, very long ..."

Ianto didn't try to push, if Jack was willing to say more, he would do so. But Jack had stopped there, giving the impression he was expecting the next question.

Ianto pondered a while what he should ask. "Yesterday, you talked about the end of the world..."

Shit! Jack had talked of it, but it was with Gwen... Jack, however, didn't seem to notice or at least didn't point that out.

"End of Times," he corrected. "The Tardis took us to the very End of Time, the end of everything."

"Wow!" Ianto couldn't but exclaimed.

"Not pretty, no. Really not, the end of time, the end of all life," Jack said repressing a chill.

"Why? Why go so far?"

"My mistake. Jumping on the Tardis, I freaked her out, she didn't recognize me ..."

"_She_ didn't recognize you?"

"It's complicated..."

Meaning Ianto wasn't going to get anything more pushing that way. He chose another one.

"Did you get your answers?" he asked.

Obviously the question had taken Jack by surprise.

"Recently, I taught myself ancient Greek..." he explained. While re-reading old reports, Ianto had discovered that Jack's perplexing annotations punctuating the margins were in ancient Greek. Only God, and Jack, knew why!

"One could say that," Jack replied sadly.

Here it was. Ianto could tell he had put his finger right where it hurt. And hurt so badly as to scream; he could feel it through his own mind.

"How's that?" he pushed.

"I'm wrong. I'm a cosmic aberration, a fixed point in the universe, a freak..."

Ianto was struck shocked, petrified... horrified.

"Lord! Jack! How can you say that?"

"It's not me saying it."

"The Doc ... The Doctor?"

Jack nodded, tears overwhelming his beautiful eyes. The pain was now unbearable, tiring his chest, his heart, his soul...

"Jack ... how, how can he say such a thing? I-"

Ianto rose up and came to take Jack in his arms, hold him tight, and hug him.

"Look at me Jack," he said, gently forcing his chin up to be able to look in the immortal's eyes. "You're not a monster. You're a man, a human being, deeply human and with a rare generosity. And if the Doctor is not able to see that, that makes him a complete idiot!"

Jack allowed himself to let go in his arms, surrendering into Ianto comforting embrace. The pain was still there, but it was calming down, becoming more bearable, and soon Jack's breathing became softer.

Ianto spent the rest of the day taking care of him. They went out and had a long walk in the park. They did some shopping, Jack even manage to tell him two or three tall tales and explained how the invisible lift's stone had become invisible... telling him how perched atop a building, he watched his younger self take a city tour, showing off in Rose's company. How he had caused a lockdown, locking Tosh, Owen and Suzie in the Hub for 48 hours to make sure they wouldn't run into them.

The pain was dulling and Jack was slowly returning to himself. At the end of the day, they went to join the team, ensuring Gwen could go home. Jack would spend the night at the Hub. The shift rotas were over.

End of this episode.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -06/28

**Part 2:** Jack's Travel Diaries – 01/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings**: Jack/Ianto, with a glimpse of the team.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** Jack is back and trying to settle in, he introduces Ianto to some more of his past.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta: **czarina_kitty

Ianto rinsed the last coffee cups and wiped them dry before storing them ready for the next round of coffee. From the cupboard under the sink, he sought after the polish and microfiber reserved for SUV maintenance and headed to the basement entrance where he could access to underground car park. Tosh and Gwen watched him pass with a knowing look.

"No need to turn on the cameras Tosh, I'll just be cleaning the SUV."

"Yeah, right! We believe you," Gwen replied as he hurried into the passage way.

"You're like rabbits!" Owen added with a disgusted grin.

Ianto shrugged, and continued on his way. The banter had become a ritual since Jack's return; he couldn't go near the basement without the innuendo. The problem was that his job required him to spend most of his time down there. But, if they were having fun tracking his every move, he didn't mind much.

He went directly to the third basement and then turned right at the first fork only to be faced with the forbidden door, the one with the DNA recognition lock. Light escaped from it, the door was ajar. Jack was in there! Ianto needed to pass in order to reach the underground car park's access door.

Of course curiosity was titillating, but, after what he'd discovered in the archives on that same floor, nearly a year before, he felt more cautious about Jack's secrets.

He was ready to turn back when the Captain's imposing silhouette appeared in the frame. Ianto raised both hands showing him the polish and the cloth to show he wasn't spying. He was still too far away to be able to see whatever was behind Jack, who occupied almost the entire doorway.

The Captain replied with a smile and gestured for Ianto to join him. Ianto pondered a bit, but Jack had now tucked his hands deep in his pockets, looking rather like a big kid wanting to trust you with his toys. Ianto approached. Jack moved to let him enter the small room.

The first thing that struck him was the smell, Jack's smell... the small room was soaked with it! The room couldn't be more than ten feet square. On the right there was a large desk with an old oil lamp and an electric one, certainly not up to code.

Inkwells, pens, pen holders and a few pencils were carefully aligned over on top of an old blotter. The back wall of the room was covered with shelves on which clung an impressive number of notebooks, Ianto counted 4758 of them.

Also along the wall, below the shelves, was a single bed pushed into the corner. A bedside table separated the headboard from an opening only closed by a curtain, probably a toilet. On the left side was a vanity table with a basin and pitcher on it, and a small wardrobe shared the length of wall.

"What the hell-" he started.

"My cell," Jack explained.

Ianto was left speechless. He couldn't find the words to express what he feel, and didn't' know what he should say. He knew from having read old Torchwood archives that Jack's status within the Institute had been very precarious and had always depended on the director in place. Jack had obviously spent a lot of time in this place.

"What are these?" he asked, pointing to the shelves.

"My travel diaries," Jack replied, gesturing for Ianto to pick one at random.

"Your travel diaries?" Ianto repeated taken aback. They looked very much as if they had been written here and there.

Jack agreed displaying an inviting and mischievous smile. Ianto pick out one of the notebooks. It was composed of five school quires old enough to be not only yellow and not stapled, but sewn. The contents, however, were even more surprising.

"Can you tell me why a traveller from the future, would write his diary in Latin and Ancient Greek?"

"Because at heart, the traveller used to be an archaeologist. You'll also find some Phoenician."

"An archaeologist?" Ianto exclaimed, more and more amazed.

Again Jack nodded and Ianto was simply stunned.

"Initially, the Time Agency was created to rebuild Earth's ecosystem without having to go through a terra forming process that would have destroyed all the architectural heritage that had passed the test of time," Jack explained.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! Biologists of all sorts were sent into the past to gather samples of flora and fauna in order to recreate it."

"And it worked? Or should I say _will work_?"

"Yes, I suppose; never been on Earth in my own time. Anyway, when they were satisfied with the results, rather than dissolving the Agency, they decided to send archaeologists and historians through time to check the veracity of our Historical knowledge."

"Really?"

"The proliferation of uncontrolled data supports, Earth's evacuation, the human race dispersed through the universe caused not only the loss of an incredible amount of knowledge in this field, but also created some myths and legends you would enjoy."

"So your job as a time agent was to check the facts on the ground in real time, that's what you mean?"

"Historical facts, yes, but also lifestyles, architecture, arts, culture, beliefs, the social, economic and political organization of civilizations."

"Wow! That amazing," Ianto stated. "Amazing and unexpected," he added, something still nagging at his natural curiosity. "But really, how did you go about it?"

"Infiltration-undercover missions that is ... it was usually over the course of several weeks or months. One would integrate with the population, blend in, be as unobtrusive as possible."

"You at least I can imagine, but I really can't picture John in that context," Ianto finally said. He was well aware Jack had a tendency to close up like a clam, when his words were doubted. But, even if he wanted to believe Jack, discretion was certainly not John's strong point!

"John is from a different story," Jack replied with a laugh. "No, John never was an archaeologist. He was a cop, all psycho."

"I thought you two teamed up?"

Jack displayed an annoyed look.

"It's complicated," he concluded, punctuating with a sigh, followed by silence.

"Okay," Ianto replied returning his interest to what he held in his hands.

Sometime before, Ianto had realised that when Jack said "It's complicated," it was either because it was really complicated - and would have required hours of patient explanation- or it was something he couldn't say because of space-time conflict. Only in rare cases did it mean: "It's none of your business."

In any case, it was best not to insist, unless you wanted to end up with the clam previously cited.

"About these diaries? You obviously wrote them here, why these two ancient languages?"

"Out of habit, and because there has never been any ancient languages specialist at Torchwood.

Ianto carefully leafed through the notebook; the text was interspersed with numerous sketches and other drawings. He stopped on one of them spread diagonally across two pages, bisecting the text on both sides. It represented a motley army, composed mostly of men on foot, a few horsemen, but in the middle advanced two elephants.

"Is this supposed to be Hannibal's army?" he asked puzzled.

"Yes," Jack replied obviously pleased. "I accompanied his campaign from Cartagena up to Massilia. I had to give up because I got hurt and it wasn't healing well."

"And what were you suppose to do in the midst of this army? You were still mortal and it might have been terribly dangerous!"

"Not that much. I was a scribe. A general's literate slave; the perfect hideout in this kind of situation."

"A scribe! Jack Harkness as a scribe? I can't believe it."

"Left page in Latin, describing the facts, places, a brief report as detailed as possible. Right page in Greek, is more personal: interpretations, emotions, thoughts..." Jack explained.

Ianto listened in amazement, then he closed the book, putting it on the desk before dragging the glamorous Indiana Jones from the future into his arms for a passionate kiss.

"Hold on, is it just me, or is it suddenly very hot in there?" he murmured.

Jack shrugged, sparkling eyes topping a not so innocent smile.

"This place is saturated with your pheromones, right?" Ianto continued.

"Yep!" the Captain had barely enough time to concede, before Ianto pushed him onto the bed. "A real sex trap!" he added as Ianto claimed his mouth once more.

Ianto didn't mind; there was no indiscreet camera in the room, and Jack was really too compelling to resist anyway.

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -07/28

**Part 2:** Jack's Travel Diaries – 02/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack/Ianto, Amy Prescott.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** Jack is back and trying to settle in, he introduces Ianto to more of his past.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

"Hmm, Jack, tell me there's a shower hidden behind this curtain," Ianto mumbled.

"A present from Annabel," Jack replied, but without releasing his embrace. Since his return, Jack had a great need for tenderness after sex and Ianto always had some difficulty disentangling from him.

"Jack, I'd love a shower and some coffee," Ianto proposed, trying not to drag his Captain back to real life too harshly.

"You're not going to like it," Jack replied holding Ianto even closer, if that was possible.

"What do you mean?"

"No hot water."

"No? As in none at all?"

"Yep! And there never was."

"That's some present!"

"Before that, I had to use the cell's tap, down the corridor, to wash myself," Jack replied. "It was quite an improvement."

"If you say so," Ianto grunted. He knew perfectly well from his sneaking through the Torchwood archives that staff showers had long been forbidden to Jack. Until Annabel's arrival, in fact, as she'd been the first of Torchwood director to consider him a human being.

"You read all her diaries while I was gone, right?"

"Yes," Ianto admitted. "Didn't you?" he asked.

"Why would I?" Jack replied.

"I don't know... I mean..."

"I only looked through what I needed to while I researched the transplant contamination cases, nothing more," Jack replied. Ianto stared at him in disbelief. "I assume you wouldn't want me reading you diary," he added.

"Of course," Ianto said, even if the diary he kept in the Hub, at more or less anyone disposal, was a decoy. As was the little notebook in which he noted anything that someone not granted with his fabulous memory would have to. Jack had found out about his little secret, but it was still something unspoken.

"Unless those are not her personal diaries, but the official Torchwood ones, we're talking about," Ianto pointed out.

"I know, but I never felt comfortable sneaking through them. They're too personal, too close to home, I guess. That's why when you offer to help I left you with them and focused on the teams' old reports."

"So you've never read the whole thing," Ianto commented, as Jack finally let go of him to get up.

"No, never," Jack confirmed.

Going to the vanity the Captain took the big pitcher and disappeared behind the curtain. Ianto heard water running.

If Jack had never read Annabel's diaries, Ianto considered, he might not know what Ianto had found in those pages. And that was probably for the best; Jack had enough to worry him right now. Ianto could still feel how disturbed he was. And it was, more or less, Annabel's last wish. _There is no way Jack should ever know, no point except to hurt him more, and I don't want that, _she had written two weeks before she was killed.

"What are you doing?" Ianto asked.

"I'd better let the water run a bit; I haven't use it since a while," Jack explained. "Wait in bed, keep yourself warm."

Ianto wasn't feeling any urge to face the frigid water, but at the same time, he knew he could hardly escape. There were staff showers near the parking entrance, but it was fifty yards of corridor away. Corridor equipped with brand new cameras, installed by Jack himself, during the week after he'd found out about Lisa.

Jack finally came back, soaked from head to toe and carrying the pitcher full of water. He sat it on the vanity.

"Brrrr, that's refreshing!" he laughed as he plunged into the small cabinet to retrieve two large towels from another age, and a suspicious looking electrical instrument.

"Hey, you're going to electrocute yourself with that thing!"

"Don't worry! But stay on the bed, just in case!"Jack replied with a grin. He plunged the appliance in to the pitcher and only then started to dry himself off. Ianto admired the view. Jack was both muscular and slightly graceful, which gave him a sensual quality without making him look in anyway feminine. _Oops!_ Ianto though, _he'd better turn his attention to something else, or Jack would be due for another cold shower!_

"These diaries, why did you write them? To keep yourself busy?" he asked.

"Mostly," Jack replied. "But also to remember who and what I was. I needed something that couldn't be drowned out or get lost in my mind."

"Knowing what you've been through, I can only imagine..." Ianto said while skimming over the dates noted on the diaries' spines.

"Your water's warm," Jack said taking the appliance out of the pot. "How much time do you think you would need to translate one of those?" he asked matter-of-factly.

_Well done Jack_, Ianto thought. He could refuse the test, drop the ball Jack was throwing, and pretend it would take weeks...

"No more than a few hours, if there isn't too much Phoenician, of course," he replied mimicking Jack and wondering how he would react.

With a pleased grin Jack grab him to plant a chaste kiss in his hair and then let him proceed with his wash up. It would be a cat like cleaning, as there was very little water for a man of his size. While Ianto was washing up, using the large porcelain basin and a corner of the towel Jack had provided, the Captain stowed the notebook Ianto had picked and retrieved two others.

"Take these two, take them home but don't make a copy of any kind, not even notes. I know you can perfectly memorize them, and that's okay. But you need to keep this to yourself, and I mean it, whatever happens..."

"Jack," Ianto tried to protest, but Jack's finger gently pressed on his lips silence him.

"Tomorrow," Jack said. "Read that first."

...

Ianto had been a little disappointed when he checked the dates on the notebooks Jack had chosen for him. He'd have rather liked more exotic dates. One of those beginning with a minus sign, for example. He'd also spotted a few about the Renaissance ... but Jack had clearly not chosen these two books at random. It was up to him to find the reason why.

As for the first one, 1941, he could take a guess: it was the date on Rose Tyler's pendant. The other, 1901, had him at a complete loss. That would be the one Ianto would start with for reasons of chronology, of course, but also out of curiosity. He put the two diaries, as well as the Latin dictionary and grammar he'd bought on his way home, on the living room table. His Latin was very limited, even if it was better than his ancient Greek used to be.

He was about to make a sandwich when the phone rang.

"Hello, may I speak to Mr. Jones, if he's available, of course!" a woman's voice said.

"Hi, there ... I'm sorry, you're gonna say I'm repeating myself..."

"Ianto, if you don't want to see me anymore, just say it!"

The fact was, since Jack's return, Ianto had forsaken her more than could possibly be forgivable. And Amy didn't deserve to be treated so disrespectfully.

"I have a job to do for tomorrow morning ..." he'd replied anyway.

"Because now you're bringing work home? Ianto ..."

"Listen, I'd really love to see you-" he started. "You know what? Pick up some takeaway on your way and come over here. Let's have some fun, and great sex, then I call you a taxi at midnight. Are you game?"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes," she replied. "Are you okay with Chinese?"

"Awesome! You're the best."

Ianto should have hurried to the shower, he knew that. But instead, he opened the Latin dictionary and began skimming through, memorizing words and definitions as he'd look at them. He knew his mind would make the necessary connections when he needed them, yet he was content to simply register the data.

He'd just closed the dictionary when the bell rang. He took the time to stash it, along with Jack's precious diaries, among the other books on the living room shelf.

As soon as Ianto opened the door, the young woman caught him by his tie to pull him in an eager kiss. Then, just as suddenly, she pushed him back shoving the bag paper containing the meal in his hands.

"Ianto Jones, despite appearances you're not a gentleman!" she stated, taking her coat off.

"I thought that fact was long established," he replied while unpacking the contents of the bag. He really ought to have taken a shower, his cat clean up in Jack's small cell, had hardly rid him of the Captain's pheromones. Of course, all his suits were hopelessly steeped with it anyway... Getting Amy into a taxi at midnight might turn into a challenge!

As soon as she'd put her things in the entry closet she went into the kitchenette to help him. That was new!

Although she was a very independent girl, as a Lord's daughter she was used to being served. Amy and her brother had lost their parent while they were still toddlers. Her brother had inherited the title and they'd been both raised by their maternal uncle, Lord Henry Lothian, himself one of Jack's former lovers. Long ago, Lord Prescott's father had also hung around with Jack, and that was probably the case of the beautiful late Lady Shirley Prescott as well...

"The problem is that as daddy's good girl, I have a soft spot for strays and bad boys—and all that with them," she said, pointedly sucking the tip of her fingers that she'd _accidentally_ put into the sauce.

As for Ianto, the thing was, this girl was nothing more, but also nothing less, than a female version of Jack - at least when coming to sex. With a lot more curves and all of them in the right places. Caught between these two he wasn't bound to grow old. But, working at Torchwood, who would besides Jack?

To be continued….


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -08/28

**Part 2: Jack's Travel Diaries** – 03/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/ pairings:** Jack/Ianto, Amy Prescott.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** Ianto takes Jack's diaries home to read, but his lovely friend Amy wants a bit of his attention.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

Ianto raised his head from the pillow and looked for his watch. 11:45 pm. Amy took advantage of his distraction to attack his left buttock, which had done nothing to deserve it.

"Amy ..."

"Hmm?" was the only response he got from the young lady.

"It's 23:45. I'll call your taxi."

"Savage!" she said while turning to the other side to get up and head towards the shower. "But seriously, what would be the problem with me sleeping here while you did your job?"

"It requires a minimum of concentration and you tend to reduce my brain to a state of white cheese..."

While Amy showered Ianto called for the taxi. He put pants and a T-shirt back on and went to brew some coffee. He could be of some use.

"What would you say about marrying me?" Amy asked out of the blue as she came out of the bathroom.

"I think that old scoundrel Henry would have an attack and your beloved brother would choke on his own tongue," Ianto replied flatly, a bit taken aback by Amy's proposal.

"Seriously Ianto?" she said, while continuing to dress, as if they were talking about the weather. And it was probably just as important to her. They were long-time friends, with benefits, but never were really lovers.

"Do they even know about us?" he asked out of pure curiosity.

"I think they suspect something... Margaret keeps introducing me contenders worthy of our name, of me ... It's really getting boring."

She was ready to leave.

"Can't you just remind them it's the twenty-first century?" he tried, perfectly aware it would be useless.

"When twenty-first century doesn't match their worldview, it ceased to exist," she replied with a laugh. "And you, better than anyone else, should know by now that it's never the other way around."

"Am I meant to give an answer right away?" Ianto asked sarcastically. This was not going to make his life any easier, and Tom would be furious.

She laughed.

"No, but promise me you'll take some time to think about it," she said, taking his mouth for a last kiss before disappearing into the night.

Tom was going to kill him, either that, or Henry would. The old Lord had already made a fuss when he learned about Ianto being back in Cardiff. He wasn't going to like this. Nope, no way, not at all.

But, Ianto had some reading to do and, unlike Jack, he needed to get some sleep. Better get to it.

Ianto went to recover the first little notebook, the one marked 1901. The first three pages weren't concealing anything particularly interesting, from what he could decipher. At that time, Jack's freedom was obviously limited within Torchwood, but Ianto knew the Captain had been through worse. Besides that, people were disappearing, nothing original there either... But then, when he turned the page, his blood froze on the spot. A Cyberman's head rose up from the text.

That notebook was about the first encounter between Torchwood and Cybermen. These events weren't consigned anywhere else that he knew of and he found the reason why in these pages. As Jack had explained, on the left pages-written in Latin-were the facts and only the stone cold facts. On the right pages-in ancient Greek-were the fear, the suffering, and terror, the doubts and loneliness and despair.

When Ianto put the notebook down, sentences continued to swirl in his head, melting with his own experience and with his own fear. His heart was beating hard and his legs were shaky as he went to the bathroom to shower the feeling away. He took a very long shower and had another coffee before coming back to the living room and opening the second book, cursing Jack for the nightmares this reading was surly going to bring back.

The second book was very different-written in the years preceding World War II, while Nazism was on the rise. In the thirties, Jack had been living on Earth for over fifty years. In retrospect, he was describing the mistakes and blunders the young fifty-first century crook had made during his first stay in twentieth century.

Jack was an expert in ancient history up to the fall of the Roman Empire. As for the rest of Earth history, he only knew the broad strokes, just like everyone else.

Jack had detailed the con he'd pulled; its whereabouts, and the three weeks waiting for his _clients_. How he became Captain Jack Harkness, his first aerial combat mission flying a Spitfire, the war- which during that first stay had left him unconcerned... jazz, and the Blitz itself, all seeming to have drawn his attention...

Of course, Jack told about his encounter with Rose, which was beautifully illustrated, hanging from the rope of a barrage balloon. There was another drawing with the Chula ship docked at Big Ben, and also one of a frightening victim of the nanogenes. But the sketch that really fascinated Ianto was the one showing the Tardis' bridge.

Jack had written and drawn all these from memory. Ianto noted some inaccuracies in Big Ben's ornaments, but Jack was clearly gifted with a very good memory. Obviously nothing like Ianto's, but whose was?

In the end, Ianto had a good night. Very strange dreams, perhaps, but he'd had worse: Amy and Jack were chasing him in order to do dirty things to him, until a Cyberman rescued him; Cyberman turning into Rose... It definitely was weird, but not that bad.

Ianto went to work earlier than usual. He wanted some time with Jack before the others arrived and had to take into account that Tosh, who felt more alone than ever since Tommy's departure, was coming in even earlier than she used to.

Jack was nowhere to be seen, so Ianto put the coffee on and started his morning routine. Then suddenly Jack was there, snuggling into Ianto's neck. Jack with his coat and his pheromones and once again Ianto's brain just melted. How was this guy doing it? How could he do this to him? It was beyond Ianto's understanding.

"I'm sorry, and I will understand if you're angry with me," Jack whispered tenderly while wrapping Ianto in his arms.

"Thanks to you, I had horrible nightmares," Ianto joked, focusing hard on what he was doing, trying to forget the man's body pressed against him.

"I wanted you to know that there was nothing you could have done, really nothing," Jack said with great sadness when Ianto turned to look at him. "You couldn't save her, Ianto. It was already too late-"

"I know that, Jack," Ianto cut him short. "I know and, in fact, I think I knew that from the beginning but I just didn't want acknowledge it, that's all," Ianto said.

Jack was worried about him and Ianto didn't know how he could make him understand that he was long over it.

"I'm okay, Jack, I'm fine, really... But what about you?"

"Me?" Jack asked, clearly taken aback by Ianto's question.

"Yes, you," Ianto replied. "How are you, Jack?"

"Oh, you mean… that was a life time ago... Am I imagining it, or I can smell coffee?" Jack said as he withdrew to remove his coat and search for his favourite drug. Ianto recovered the coat and hung it in its place, while Jack served two coffees.

"Try this, the best I've ever tasted," Jack said, handing him a cup with a big smile that did not match his eyes, or what Ianto could feel coming from him.

"Jack, you've been converted," Ianto noted.

"I'm immortal, I regenerated," Jack replied, as if it erased what had happened to him. "I realise I shouldn't have ... I'm sorry, Ianto. I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't mean to upset you, it was stupid," Jack apologised once again, worried about Ianto as if _he_ didn't matter.

"Jack, please, stop worrying about me. I'm fine. Thanks to you, I'm fine, really," Ianto said, choosing each word carefully.

"You don't look fine, Ianto."

"Because I'm worried about you. You're not yourself since you came back," Ianto replied, _and you're overwhelming me with your messed up feelings_, he kept for himself.

"You're adorable Ianto, you know that?" Jack replied, coming lasciviously toward Ianto trying to distract him from the subject. "I love it when-"

"I'm serious, Jack," Ianto cut him short, stopping dead in his tracks. "You're always caring for others, but you're purposely ignoring your own wounds. Being immortal doesn't prevent you from hurting."

"You're nice, but I'm fine," Jack replied. "Some of my 'wounds', as you call them, will take a bit longer to heal, but in the end, like the others, they will," he added realising Ianto was really concerned.

Tosh's arrival put an end to their conversation and Ianto went to make more coffee for her.

If there was something Ianto was sure about, it was that Jack was anything but fine. It was as if whatever had happened while running away with the Doctor, it had reopened old scars. In 1901, Jack had been converted, turned into a Cybermen. Then he had been killed and cremated by Torchwood.

Jack had come back to life amid his own ashes in the incinerator.

Sometime later, Torchwood noticed that when he was alone, or thought himself alone, Jack disappeared. They eventually found a nearly finished, tinkered conversion unit in a storage room in the third basement. Torchwood didn't take it lightly; they locked Jack in the incinerator and cremated him alive, repeating the process several times until they were sure nothing remained of the Cyberman.

No wonder Jack has ordered a draconian cleaning operation after Canary Wharf, taking it upon himself to end the suffering of those who, like Lisa, were still trapped in conversion units. Jack knew what they endured, what Lisa had been through, what she had endured longer than the others, by Ianto's fault...

But for Lisa, the nightmare was over, her suffering had ended.

As for Jack he was clearly far from being fine. It was as if he no longer considered himself a human being, a person. Was it just because of the Doctor calling him _wrong_ or had it started earlier?

It was so much simpler for Ianto when he couldn't _feel_ Jack, even Owen wasn't that messed up.

To be continued.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -09/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 2:** Jack's Travel Diaries – 04/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto, Thomas Prescott.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: **Ianto is caught between his lovely friend Amy who wants to marry him and Jack who seems to need a lot more tenderness than Ianto is ready to give him.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

" Arrrg," Ianto grunted. "Jack you're hurting me, really."

"You poor little thing," Jack joked.

Ianto was lying flat on what Jack persisted in calling his bed and the Captain was straddling his back, just under his arse.

"Howw ouch!"

"And is it better now?" Jack asked. "I'm sure got it right this time."

"Yes much better," Ianto replied getting up and abruptly jerking away knocking Jack out of the bed. "That was the last time. And I mean it, this time," he said, annoyed. "No way, you will ever get me to sleep in that torture device again."

"Ianto," Jack pouted from the floor.

But this time Ianto meant it. It was the second time in three days he'd jammed his back. He had no idea how Jack could bring a bed in his rat hole, but unless he did, he was not spending one more night there.

Jack followed Ianto to the shower, hoping to make amends for having a too uncomfortable bed.

"Hands off, sir," Ianto shoved him off.

"You're still hurting?"

"I'll be hurting all day long, Jack."

"Ask Owen—" Jack tried to suggest before Ianto's dark look cut him down mid track. "Perhaps, I could-"

"Find a real bed?" Ianto cut him short. "Perhaps, get it in there? Surely not. End of argument," he snapped pushing Jack out of his way to get his clothes.

"Ianto," Jack pleaded, still naked and still _at the ready,_ following him like puppy.

Any other grown man would have looked ridiculous, but Ianto had to admit Jack was just adorable and it took all he had not to jump him on the litigious cot, even with aching lumbar.

"Suppose, I got you a bed, a real one?"

"Here? In this place?"

"Yep!"

"A real bed? Look around; there isn't enough space for a real bed Jack."

"Yes but, suppose I manage it...?"

"I really can't figure how you could."

"I got that, but what if?" Jack insisted.

"Let's talk about that later, the team is due to arrive and I've got things to attend to," Ianto cautiously replied. Knowing Jack he'd rather not promise anything he might regret later. The rascal could well have some kind of teleport device hidden somewhere in the Hub and not listed among the archives. Amy knew his job was intrusive but, if he was spending all nights at Torchwood, she might begin to grow wary.

Ianto spent most of the first part of the day avoiding Jack's wandering hands. The rest of the day the rift did him a favour by keeping the team occupied outside of the Hub and, for once, doing so without giving him more work.

"Ianto, can I have a last coffee?" Jack asked as the others were picking their stuff before leaving for the evening.

"A last coffee, Ianto," Owen bantered, glancing sideways at the girls before heading toward the exit.

Ianto went to make the coffee without comment; Owen could be so puerile sometimes.

"Thanks, Ianto."

"My pleasure, sir. And, as I'm here: goodnight, sir," Ianto replied.

Jack jumped from his chair to grasp Ianto's hands in his, a pout forming on his face.

"I'm sorry, Ianto, it was a bit crazy today, but I swear to-"

Ianto cut him short by planting a chaste kiss on the Captain's lips.

"Goodnight Jack. I'm going home." And to make sure Jack wasn't going to try arguing he gently silenced him by putting his finger on his lips.

Frustrated Jack followed him, only to stop on the threshold of his office. Ianto was already walking through the cog door.

"I managed to get some of that oil," he tried anyway.

That stopped Ianto.

"Which oil?"

"Owen's special brew," Jack replied; hands deep in his trousers pocket, nonchalantly leaning against the doorpost, a devious smile forming on his sensual mouth.

That was tempting. Ianto weighed the option a little, then made up his mind.

"Okay, you win," he said. "You can come to my place, but not until 10. I told my grand's I would pop over after work."

With those final words and without being trailed, Ianto walked out the Hub. He could count on Jack to be waiting on his door step at ten sharp. It didn't leave him much time to do what he had to do, but Jack's hands combined with Owen's oil was too much of a temptation.

Ianto hurried across the Plass and turned toward the park. He walked alongside until he found a coffee shop. He went straight to order a coffee and, as soon it was ready, he went to a table at the far end of the room where a man was waiting in front of an empty cup.

"For you," Ianto said setting the filled cup beside the empty one before taking the chair across from the man. "What have you got for me?" he tasked his old accomplice.

"You were right again," Thomas sighed. "Some day, you'll have to explain how you do that-"

Ianto wasn't really surprised, but this one had been a long shot: a very few scattered clues his maddening memories had registered through the recent years, until his mind had finally found the beginning of a pattern.

"Sarah?" he asked, just to be sure they were talking about the same case.

"Sarah," Tom nodded. "Do you remember her?"

"Somewhat," Ianto lied, even Tom didn't know about his abilities. "I was her tutor for her first semester of school. Nice kid."

Ianto could picture the eight-year-old girl well, her too pale skin contrasted with dark hair and amazingly large blue eyes. She was quick and full of life, but he had been 15 and not much interested in little girls...

"Shirley Granger gave birth to her son, and three days later that woman gave birth to Sarah in the same hospital with a false identity. Granger was declared to be the father, and the Grangers walked out with twins," Ianto summarised the story he had asked Tom to check out for him.

"Right. Simple, but efficient." Tom nodded. "Of course, it meant the two women had to be pregnant at the same time."

"That was probably just a lucky coincidence they used," Ianto sighed. "If that hadn't been the case, they would have come with something else."

"But why? What was the point?"

"Just a mother wanting to protect her daughter."

"From who?" Tom asked. "You know who that woman was, right?"

"She was working for Torchwood."

"It's her name, I want, Ianto," Tom said, silently reminding Ianto of the deal they had made long ago, on the night their school had gone _missing_.

"Granger, Annabel Granger."

"Sam's lost sister? So, in fact, he adopted his niece?"

"Yes, and Annabel died less than a month after her daughter."

"Shit! And what about the father? The real one?"

"He never knew and he doesn't need to know," Ianto replied in a whisper.

"Ianto!"

"Jack Harkness."

"I can believe it," the young Lord stated. "Who knew?"

"No one, except for Annabel," Ianto replied. "I'm pretty sure Sam doesn't even know his sister used to work for Torchwood."

"Henry knew."

"He found out accidentally."

"And you, how did you find this out?"

"Accidentally," Ianto replied, not wanting to say more than he needed to where Jack was concerned. Even more so since he was sure that Jack's daughter having attending the same school was just a coincidence.

"The more we dig, the less it makes sense," Tom sighed.

"Yep," Ianto smirked, because even if he had a much larger view of the puzzle they had been desperately trying to solve for years, he was just as much at a loss. "Your sister proposed me," he said, out of the blue.

"You're kidding me."

"She looked pretty serious to me."

"What did you say?" the young Lord asked, as if reminding Ianto they were not of the same world.

"That I need to think about it. But, ultimately, I will have to give her an answer."

"Make sure she changes her mind. Find something, anything, Ianto."

"You know her, she's not going to back down easily," Ianto pointed out. "And you know why she wants to marry me."

"No way is she ever marrying you, Ianto," Tom replied dryly.

"I might need to be very nasty. You don't really want me to be nasty to your sister, right?" Ianto asked very calmly. He didn't want this marriage either, but he could understand why Amy had asked and he was ready to be by her side as long as she needed him.

"Henry and Margaret are going to go nuts."

"That might be the point," Ianto stated with a half smirk.

"I'll do my best to handle Henry," Tom resigned.

"I'm sure you will," Ianto replied getting up from his chair. "I need to go; my grand's are expecting me. Bye."

Ianto left the coffee shop and headed toward his grandfather's tailor shop. He would stop on the way to buy some flowers and, after sharing a quick tea with his grandparents, he would go home to Jack and his wonderful hands.

To be continued.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -10/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 2:** Jack's Travel Diaries – 05/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Amy Prescott.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: **After "Meat" life goes on, Amy is still planning on marrying Ianto, and Jack wants to keep his lover in the Hub to sleep with him as often as he can manage, even if that mean pushing out walls.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

"You need to know that you bought me a very nice ring," Amy told him as she got out of his shower.

She'd spend the night with him, the first time in weeks. Ianto's life was really becoming complicated and it wasn't about sharing. Jack knew about him having someone else and Amy, even if she wanted to marry him, was not expecting him to be her husband. She loved her freedom and respected his.

"I hope I didn't spend more than I could afford," he replied from the kitchen where he was making some coffee.

"Do you want to have a look at it?" she asked already heading for her purse. She rummaged in it a good minute before she could put her hand on the little blue box.

"Wow, I've been a bit too generous don't you think?" Ianto exclaimed. "I wouldn't put that much money in a car," he pointed out.

"It doesn't matter. They wouldn't expect you to spend even a penny on it," she replied with a laugh.

"Your family already think I'm marrying you for your money and you make fun of it?" he joked.

"Whatever I say and whatever you do, they will never change their minds about you. Not even my brother, so let's give them something to chew on," she replied. "Don't you enjoy this?" she asked.

"A lot," he replied with devilish grin. "I love playing the bad guy."

"Don't forget Whistler's party tonight."

"I won't be able to come," Ianto replied.

"Don't tell me you're working late again."

"No, in fact, I promised a friend I would give him a hand moving in."

"You? Moving things?" she bantered. "With those beautiful, manicured hands?" she added when he raised a scornful eyebrow.

"The fact that I'm taking care of my hands doesn't mean I'm can't use them," he replied eyeing his own hands suspiciously. "And I don't remember you ever complaining about my hands."

"Oh I won't. In fact, I love your hands. They are so soft and so talented," she laughed. "But I'm not so sure about moving things, especially if it's furniture."

"Now I'm hurt," Ianto pouted in a perfect imitation of Jack.

"He is back, right?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're colleague? The one who left?"

"Right," Ianto admitted.

"He's monopolizing you even more than he used to," she stated.

"He is not feeling well-"

"No, please, not you, Ianto."

"Something happen to him while he was gone. I don't know what. It's not something he can talk about."

"You're not going to fall for emotional blackmail, right? Not you?"

"No, I won't," Ianto replied. "But right now he needs someone by his side. Someone who cares. And when I needed help in the past, he was there for me."

"I would have been there too, if you had asked," she pointed out. "Okay, maybe this is about something classified," she added before Ianto could say anything. "But then, why that shit about moving? You're not going to start lying to me?"

"Believe it or not, it's really about moving things in. But, as the furniture happens to be a bed, we're probably going to christen it at the end of the process."

"I warn you Ianto Jones, you better behave yourself," she said planting a kiss on his lips. "Have fun," she added before leaving.

This girl was really one of a kind, but marrying her was not going to make his life easier. Thankfully, everyone, starting with Amy herself, was doing everything possible to delay the wedding. And for the time being Ianto had another unique sort of lover to go to.

…

When Ianto arrived at the Hub, Jack was in his office. If it wasn't for the clean shirt the Captain was wearing Ianto would have wondered if Jack had spent the night there. He looked as thoughtful and annoyed as he had when Ianto had left him the previous evening.

"Didn't you sleep?" he asked.

"Do you think I shouldn't have surrendered so easily?"

"Why did you?" Ianto asked. "I mean, really. Why did you do it?"

"I'm not really sure," Jack replied. "I pondered about it all night long."

Ianto sat himself on the edge of Jack's desk, putting the most neutral mask he could manage on his face, before asking, "Do you think he could become a problem?"

"No, I don't think so. That's not the issue…"

"So what is it, then?"

"I'd say he's the ordinary hero type," Jack sighed. "And now that he's tasted the thrill, I fear he'll be tempted to stupidly put is life at risk."

"Not really your concern, if you ask me," Ianto replied a bit more dryly than he would have liked, but Jack didn't seem to notice.

"If something happen to him, you go and see if Gwen doesn't make it our concern."

"Gwen pushed you on that one, if Rhys turn out not to be able to handle it, you'll just have to force her to face her own mess," Ianto stated sternly. "She made it her problem, not yours."

Jack looked up and gave him a half smile.

"Yeah, you're probably right. How about coffee Mister Jones?"

"Right away, sir," Ianto replied jumping off the desk and rushing toward the kitchen with an invigorated Captain on his tail. "When you said_ '_the ordinary hero type', what exactly do you mean?"

"The kind of ordinary guy who, when confronted with an extreme situation, prove themselves to be incredibly brave. The kind of guys you can rely in war."

"And you believe Rhys to be that kind of guy?"

"Yes, I do," Jack stated.

While brewing the morning's first round of coffee, Ianto couldn't keep his mind from drifting back to that strange nightmare he had while Jack was gone. Because in that nightmare, Rhys had joined the resistance he had built with Tosh and Esther. And what was very funny about it was that before Gwen brought Rhys to the Hub the previous day, Ianto only knew him through files and Gwen's chats. However, like Jack, he had the feeling Rhys wouldn't be a threat to Torchwood.

This day was one of the rough ones. Nothing very extraordinary for the Torchwood team, just a day no one found time to finish a cup of his coffee, except for him. He even managed to take a moment to go and get the bed Jack had ordered two weeks earlier. Ianto still didn't have a clue as to what Jack intend to do with it, but Ianto had made himself clear with the Captain: if he wanted Ianto on the bed, it had to be installed near a proper shower and out of any camera's range.

Ianto left the bed inside the lorry, waiting for his colleagues to leave the Hub for the night before going back to unload it with Jack.

"You bought a king size bed?" Ianto commented, still puzzled about Jack casual attitude.

"We're not exactly gnomes, and you seemed to want comfort…," Jack humoured.

"And where do you intend to put it, if I may ask?"

"In my place, of course."

"You're place? Do you mean that rat hole under your office?"

"Yep! That's the idea."

"No way. Not only is the only access to that burrow a two foot wide hole, as I shouldn't need to remind you, but the floor space down there is smaller than that bed," Ianto pointed out waiting for Jack's reaction.

"That won't be a problem, we'll push out the walls," Jack grinned. "Will you help me? Or do you intend to spend the night here wondering? Unless you're okay with christening it here and now…"

"We're in a car park, Jack."

"So let's get it to a more private place, if you mind."

Ianto let out a resigned sigh and went to help Jack carry first the mattress, then the cross-beam from the UNIT lorry that Ianto had long ago customized into a Torchwood vehicle and into Jack office. To get the bed inside that room they had to push most of the furniture against the walls. The two pieces of the bed lying on their thin sides occupied most of the space by the man hole.

"So, now what?" Ianto smirked.

Jack granted him a wild grin, and went to rummage first in one of his desk's drawers, then in the cupboard behind it, and finally by the safe. He collected three different items from these places and put them together to build what looked like gun from a comic book.

"Here it is," Jack claimed proudly.

"Do you intend to threaten that bed into this hole, by fear of that thing?"

Jack was having a lot of fun, and Ianto realized he might have missed something. A gun, a hole, a big bed, pushing out walls… "Is that thing the square gun?"

Jack grinned and fired at the floor, opening a wide square hole in it.

"I thought that was out of batteries," Ianto pouted, Jack once again had cheated and made fun of him.

"Batteries can always been replaced," Jack replied, jumping down feet first in the hole. Ianto followed him using the ladder. Jack had already disintegrated the only free wall of the small room, and it was now open into the first floor archives.

Jack was standing right where the wall used to be grinning madly at him.

"What do you say about rebuilding it here?" he asked enjoying it a bit too much for Ianto's taste.

"That should be good," Ianto commented. "That way we'll be able to walk around it."

"Wow, should I be worried?" Jack bantered, rebuilding the wall. His eyes were sparkling with delight, wondering about the way Ianto was going _to punish_ him for making so much fun of him. Ianto couldn't help but grin back. Jack was really one of a kind, and the night was going to be very, very hot.

To be continued.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -11/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 2:** Jack's Travel Diaries – 06/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto, Amy and Thomas Prescott, and Lord Henry Lothian.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** After "Adam" Ianto is unbalanced by the effects of retcon and by the fact that Jack had retconned them all.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

"You're leaving?" Jack asked trying hard to hide his disappointment.

"Yes," Ianto replied still a bit uncomfortable. He wasn't really upset, just disoriented, like the others were.

Jack was leaning against the doorjamb of his office, hands in his pockets, waiting sadly, but not daring say or try anything to keep Ianto from leaving.

"How can the retcon possibly still work on you?" Ianto finally asked.

"A massive dose will work for a while, at least until my next death," Jack explained.

"You left a note saying we're not to try to find out what had happened no matter what happens in the future," Ianto pointed out.

"Let's hope any danger will be gone for good by then," Jack replied. He looked as much at loss as anyone of them.

"Yes, I guess that the only thing we can do," Ianto stated. "I'll go now."

"You're doing something this weekend?" Jack asked as Ianto was about to walk out. "I mean with your girlfriend?"

"I don't know Jack, but right now I need some space. Sorry."

"It's okay, have some fun."

"Same to you. Bye."

...

"What was wrong with you yesterday?" Amy asked.

"Yesterday?" Ianto asked suddenly feeling really uncomfortable.

"Yes, yesterday," Amy insisted. "You nearly frightened me, you know?"

"Frightened? Did I hurt you, in any way?" Ianto asked. He was now really upset, as he had sometime earlier woken up among his colleague in the conference room. Jack had been, for his part, down in the cells of the Hub, all of them retconned, two days missing and a very cryptic message left by Jack before he'd retconned them all, included himself. The retcon didn't seem to have worked completely on Ianto, he was having blurry flashback. It was too faint for him to understand what it was about, but he didn't like the taste of it.

"No, of course not, what a funny idea," she replied, to Ianto's relief. "Don't tell me you don't remember-"

"I can't remember the last 48 hours. Something happened at work, it was an accident," he tried to explain.

"What kind of accident? Didn't you say you weren't going into the field?"

"I have to go more and more often. Not enough staff," he said. "And anyway, it's the kind of job where sometimes the field is bound to invite itself to the office, you know."

"I guess you don't want-"

"Amy, didn't we already have this conversation? I won't quit my job," Ianto said frowning to make his point. This wasn't really an argument; just a recurrent wish she would make every time she remembered he could be in danger.

"I just... I love you Ianto, really, and I don't want you to get hurt, or worse," she sighed. "At least not before we get married," she bantered.

"Right, I should have known better," he replied stopping the car in front of the manor's large gates.

It was the first time a very long-time that Ianto was allowed to pass through these gates. Behind them was the playground of his childhood, the barn of his first romp with the four girls of the household, the amazing private library of Lord Henry Lothian... He was just a street kid granted the luxury of charity holidays...

Contrary to what Henry might believe, Ianto would always be thankful to him, even if things had become complicated between them with time. In fact, Henry had fully foreseen that if the very solitary and studious Ianto had suddenly gained interest in girls' activities when turning thirteen, it wasn't because he'd turned out to be gay, far from it, but because he was interested in discovering more about her. But, as Ianto never got caught, and no one else wanted to know about it, it stayed an argument between Margaret and Henry until Ianto left for London after a fight with Tom.

Once allowed inside, Ianto drove the car to the front door. Fred, the guard, came to help Amy out of the car before Ianto could. Ianto gave him the key to his little blue coupé and, taking Amy's arm, he followed Oscar, Henry's butler, into the blue chamber where Lady Margaret had tea served.

"Milord, Tom, Esther, Lady Margaret, I beg your pardon," Ianto said moving to take Lady Margaret's hand in both of his hands. The old lady, even if she wouldn't move from her armchair, welcomed him with a benevolent smile.

"Stop it, Ianto," Lord Henry warned him sternly, making clear he wasn't happy with Ianto being there and wasn't going to make things easy for him.

"Henry," the old woman protested. She, like all the women of the household had always been sweet on him. "You were at the funeral, I saw you. It pleased me, but why didn't you come and join us?"

"I wasn't welcomed," Ianto replied. "And I didn't want to provoke a fuss at such a moment. My thoughts were with you, though."

"Stop it Ianto," Thomas Prescott said in his turn. "You didn't know that child. Of course, she will remain the only girl of this household you won't have laid."

"Thomas," both the old Lord and his wife exclaimed, horrified.

"Same old Tom, as tactful as ever," Ianto commented displaying a large grin. To everyone else, even Amy, the two old friends had grown apart long ago, and it had to stay that way.

"Aren't we here to discuss my sister's latest whim?" Tom replied with a very convincing distasteful grin. To be truthful, even if Ianto and Tom were like brothers, Tom really was unhappy with Amy wanting to marry Ianto.

"I forbid you to call our wedding a whim," Amy protested, faking outrage and glancing at Esther for friendly support.

"Gentlemen, it's tea time," Lady Margaret calmed everyone down.

So they had tea. Ianto was happy, happy to be here among these people he loved, despite their flaws. Not out of self-interest as many thought, but because he knew what he owed them; for the holidays away from home, away from the gray suburbs and especially away from his father.

They talked about contracts or pre-nuptial agreement. He was asked who his lawyer was and replied that he didn't have one but he would sign whatever they wanted. He'd been warned, in every way, and of course the dreaded question finally came out.

"Amy said you worked for the Home Office department?" Henry asked conversationally.

"Amy told you that?" Ianto asked cautiously.

"Yes, she did, but no one knows you in the Home office," Henry stated.

"Did you ask for the coffee boy?" Tom bantered.

"I asked about any job, even as they now call them _surface technicians_," Henry replied looking straight at Ianto.

"We're working with the Home Office, but are not under their control," Ianto explained without further information. His work was classified, that was what he had told Amy, and that was the only thing he was going to admit, and that only because both Henry and Thomas also worked for classified departments. The fact was Ianto knew a lot of thing they didn't know, just as Henry didn't know his nephew real assignment.

"Oh, stop it Henry," Lady Margaret ended the discussion. "You, more than anyone else, must remember how difficult that kind of job can be regarding family business. Ianto give me your arm, my boy, and take me for a walk under the patio, please."

Ianto did was he was asked, he went for a long walk with the old Lady, enjoying every minutes of it. When time to leave came around, Henry couldn't prevent himself from taking Ianto slightly apart for a last warning.

"I don't know what you're up to-" he started.

"6284fmp45873o55," Ianto whispered in his ear, to cut him short. "Even if you can't access my file, as you can see, I can access yours," he added before leaving behind a consternated old Lord.

...

Ianto drove back to Cardiff and took Amy home, telling her he had something to go and check at work. He would call her later on.

The fact was Ianto had spent the day with a flash back constantly hacking in his head. He couldn't make out what it was about and it was beginning to upset him. He went home first, to change and have a look at the diary he used to leave at the Hub. That diary was just a decoy, he usually wrote insignificant things in it, mostly for the benefit of the inevitable curious eyes. Nothing that should be useful, unless you were missing two days. Problem was, the last two pages were missing. They had been carefully cut, not pulled out. It might mean that he'd agreed to be retconned, but what Ianto couldn't understand was why he hadn't write himself a note.

He dialled Tom.

"Can you tell me if we met or talked during the last couple of days?" he asked the young Lord.

"What's going on? What do you mean?"

"Answer."

"No, but Esther got a disturbing phone call," Tom replied.

"How disturbing?"

"Enough for me to want to trace the caller. Especially since she didn't want to tell me who it was."

"And you managed to trace it to me?"

"You called from a public box, but I know you were the caller from the voicemail on her mobile."

"Does your fiancé know you're hacking her mobile?" Ianto bantered. "Did I say anything... interesting?"

"You sounded pissed," Tom replied. "Don't tell me you can't remember."

"I can't."

"Did he drug you? Ianto?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Ianto replied. "Something happened and he retconned us all, even himself."

"Is that what he said? Do you have proof? And moreover, how can retcon still work on him?"

"Some drugs are more effective than others on him," Ianto explained. "His healing process is a bit fuzzy. He can keep marks from a beating for hours, but a deadly wound will heal within minutes."

"But you only have his word, right?"

"Right," Ianto admitted, but he trusted Jack with his life, he realised. No, that wasn't the point. Something was nagging at him and he needed to find out what. "Could you send me a copy of that call?"

"No problem old mate, but can I knock you out when this is over?"

"Is it that bad?"

"Pretty much."

To be continued.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -12/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 2:** Jack's Travel Diaries – 07/07

**POV:** from Ianto's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto.

**Rating:** PG-15 (smut)

**Summary:** After "Adam" Ianto is unbalanced by the effects of retcon and by the fact that Jack had retconned them all.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

"Hi, you been waiting long?" Jack asked arriving by the invisible lift.

"No, just enough time to put coffee on..."

"What's this about? It's Sunday, is there a problem, or... did you just miss me?" Jack asked unsure if he could play off the bravado or if he might prefer to keep a lower profile.

"Did you really retcon yourself?"

"Please, Ianto, not you, not that again," Jack sighed out of annoyance. "What's the matter? Something specific bothering you?" he then asked, realising Ianto looked really upset.

"I don't get why I didn't leave myself a note. It's really not like me."

"Look, it seems as if neither of us acted like ourselves during those two days."

"What do you mean?"

"I just came from Gwen's, had a little chat with Rhys-"

"Rhys? What the hell... with Rhys?"

"Looks like Gwen went home Thursday night not remembering him... not knowing him at all, in fact. Even calling us for help because there was an _intruder_ in her apartment... So when she came back not remembering the last two days, he wanted an explanation..."

"Did you give him one?"

"You happen to have done something out of character, is that it?"

"Apart from making indecent proposals to one of my best friends?" Ianto bantered, a bit relieved that Jack found it funny, and went immediately back to flirting mode. "What's really bothering me are these flashbacks..."

"Flashbacks? That could be a problem. The note I left was clear: we had to forget all about what happened during those two days."

"I don't think it has anything to do with Torchwood, Jack... Unless, you retconned us to cover up murders."

"Where the hell did you get that?" Jack protested. "And who would the murderer be?" he asked suspiciously.

"Me."

Jack first gapped, then frowned and finally came to take Ianto's face in both hands. "What are you talking about? How can you believe such a thing?"

"What? Me being a murderer? Or you covering for me?"

"Both," Jack replied, confident.

"I can't remember anything about what happened here, or having called Esther, but I remember these women, Jack, I-"

Jack shut him up with a kiss, pulling him close in a tight embrace. "Something altered our memories and characters. I might have not have take into account your fabulous memory when I retconned you..."

"I might have killed these women-"

"Ianto, think about it, look into your own mind, I know you can do it. Now answer this question: why would you do that? Why would you have killed these women?"

Ianto was at a complete loss, it wasn't making any sense, it wasn't like him, but still he could taste it, feel the pulse in his own throat...

"Men killing like that, are more often than not acting out of frustration, they feel bad about their sexuality, not accepting it, not wanting to deal with it. Doesn't look much like you, right?" Jack pointed out, his blue eyes sparkling with an annoying confidence.

"How do you know what type of killing it would have been?" Ianto asked suspiciously. "I didn't specify."

Jack sighed and let him go as Ianto backed out of his arms.

"Because I got a phone call from the cops, confirming they have no missing women matching the description I had gave them, nor any strangled women, for at least the last six months or even the 18 last months, at least not in the Cardiff area..."

"Look like you asked."

"Yeah? That should comfort you, though."

"Yes," Ianto replied looking for comfort in Jack's arm, hoping he would get the message. Since Jack had come back, craving tenderness, he always gave Ianto the lead and Ianto was completely fine with that. Right now, however, he was the one in need of tenderness and comfort. He needed to be held, to be cared for. He needed to fall.

This memory loss episode had some funny outcomes: Owen found he'd promised one of his neighbours, an incapacitate old man, he would help him with shopping, and Tosh was admonished because of her lack of discretion. As for Ianto, Esther and Amy were making a lot of fun of him. Rhys, on his side, was very upset with all of them and would come back home with his hands up just in case. Jack, on the other hand, looked better, and was back in playful mood.

Epilogue

Ianto was happy with the way things were going: Henry and Thomas' lawyers were delaying the wedding as much as they could, not even being able to come to an agreement against himself. The Shadow was doing pretty well, getting more powerful that it had been in the past, and Jack was currently doing things there should be laws against...

DRRRing Ka doooock

Ianto didn't get it, what was left of his brain was focused on Jack's tongue and on some fingers wandering in a very promising direction.

DRRRing Ka doooock

_Why the hell was Jack stopping?_ That was Ianto's first coherent thought, the next one was '_shit_!'

"You've got a funny ringtone," Jack said popping up from between Ianto's parted thighs.

DRRRing Ka doooock

"It will go to voicemail, Jack, get back to work," Ianto said hips rising for attention. Ianto was handcuffed to headboard and couldn't do much more. If he hadn't been he might have grabbed his Captain's mop of hair to get him back where he wanted him.

DRRRing Ka doooock

Instead of obeying, Jack went to look for the intruding device.

"Jack, what...? No, Jaaack, NOOOOO."

Jack picked up, turning the speaker on before putting the mobile next to Ianto, displaying a challenging grin matching mischievous eyes ... Ianto couldn't believe it! This was a nightmare!

"Hi, sweetheart, Esther and I were about... Ianto, are you listening?"

Jack had moved back downward and was grinning like a maniac. Guessing what the Captain had in mind, Ianto shot the darkest look he could manage. "Amy, please, just hang up, okay?" he said as calmly as he could.

"What's the matter, what's going on Ianto?"

"Everything's fine, just hang up, now."

"Why did you take my call, then? What's wrong? Why aren't you hanging up...?"

"Nooooo." _How could that guy do that without chocking to death?_ "Amy hang up for god sake, Amyyyy pleeease."

"Ianto, what the hell- I don't know, Esther- what—Ianto are you with your colleague?"

Jack let go of his prey with a sucking sound to watch Ianto with wide surprised blue eyes...

"Yes I am, and I can't hang up, and he is having the time of his life," Ianto replied not flinching and looking straight at Jack. "Now, hang up."

"Love that, I bet you're on speaker mode, right? I'm Amy, and you are...?"

_What the hell he'd done to get cursed with those two?_ "Amy, one last time, hang up."

"She sounds fun, I like that," Jack commented before getting back _to work_.

"Ooooooooh nooooo. Oooooooh God."

"Esther drop it, he's okay: just having fun with his boyfriend, come over here..."

End of part 2.

To be continued with part 3:


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -13/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 01/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto. Tish Jones as a special guest.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Where everything gets worse before it gets better. Owen is a dead man walking, Gwen is about to get married and from Jack's point of view thing are not fine between him and Ianto.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

"He keeps lying," Jack said.

"And you don't?"

"Not if I can avoid it."

"And what if it was the same for him?"

"Tish..." Jack protested.

"Did he give you an explanation for the false ID?"

"Yes he did. But he said it's his real name, and that can be true. Or if it is, that would mean he wasn't born in Wales, or even in the United Kingdom. Or he would need to be a lot younger or a lot older, so whatever his explanation is it's not holding water."

"If I recall, Jack Harkness is not your real name either?"

"That's not the point, Tish."

"What's the matter then?"

"He uses my personal codes, even my signature."

"If I remember correctly, that was how he managed to keep your place warm while you were away, right?"

"Yes, that's right. But I'm not so sure that was his purpose."

"And what else would it be Jack?"

"I don't know, but I know he's plotting something in my back."

"So, if you think that, why don't you confront him?"

"-"

"Jack, why don't you?"

"Because, I don't want to lose him. I dread what I might found out."

"Don't be silly. Aren't we speaking about the man who confronted the Master?"

"Yes we are, Tish. And trust me he's nothing like a saint."

"Worst case scenario?"

"Last time it was a cyberman he was hiding."

"No Jack. That wasn't the last time it was the first one. The last time, it was a resistance organisation. The one, the only one that helped Martha."

"Perhaps," Jack conceded reluctantly.

"Jack, you can't go on like this. It's eating you up; you need to get to the bottom of it with him."

"I know, but I'm just terrified about losing him. I need him Tish."

Since the Valiant, and The Year That Never Was, Tish had become his friend and his confidant, the only person he could tell anything, and the only one he could speak to about what was really hurting.

They had become close, facing the Master. They'd never met up since, but they had a very intense phone relationship. For hours they would speak on the phone, supporting each other in turn. Usually at night when no one was left, when everyone else was sleeping. Life after the Master hadn't been easy for either of them.

Ianto lied to him, he never stopped lying to him ... not that Jack hadn't tried to give him the chance to... He even shared some of his secret, hoping to gain his confidence ... Not a chance! Ianto kept his, and if Jack ever asked a more direct question, Ianto disregarded as insignifiant.

If this wasn't enough, since Owen's death, Ianto was systematically choosing the dead man's side. Ianto hadn't been easy on him with that case.

"What the hell were you thinking, Jack?"

"I don't know, I really don't know."

"How could you possibly have done that? I can't believe it. Not from you. You should be the last one playing with that sort of thing, don't you think?"

"I know..."

"Do you even see what you got him into? That's not life. He is nothing like you. What kind of future...?"

"I don't know Ianto, I really don't know. We can only wait and see..."

Since that dreaded case, Ianto was becoming more and more distant, jumping at any occasion to choose Amy's company over his. Like tonight. Jack was left alone because he had chosen to go hunting with Gwen. She'd been bitten, nothing serious, but she was going to get married tomorrow. Ianto hadn't yelled at him, just told him how disappointed he was about his selfishness. Yes, that was selfish, he'd just wanted to spend one last evening with Gwen before she became Mrs Williams, before she left on her honeymoon. Gwen had been hurt and Ianto had left, telling him he should look for someone else if he wanted to get laid.

But Jack wasn't in the mood. In fact since that hell of Welshman had come into his life, he, Jack Harkness, hadn't been in the mood for anyone else, not even once. And that was a first.

What about Gwen? He couldn't deny the chemistry between them, but he knew also too well how badly it would turn out if he ever went that way. Gwen had put him on a pedestal, and every time he proved to be just a man with his failures he was bound for a scene. What would it be like if he was more than just her boss?

At least, Ianto never yelled at him. He never put him on a pedestal either. No, Ianto was content to say how deceived he was, and how stupid and careless Jack had been, until the Captain felt miserable. Then he would leave him alone with himself.

...

Gwen's marriage almost turned into a nightmare and once again it was his fault. Sure, he definitely shouldn't have taken her hunting on her wedding eve, Ianto said so, Rhys ditto and Owen ditto ... he couldn't even blame them!

He had really been afraid of losing her. She was a beautiful bride, and the champagne had turned his head ... Ianto intervened in time, the groom might not have agreed with him kissing his young wife in front of the guests and family... He had already planned to retcon the whole party, but still!

An entire wedding party to put in bed. They had spent the rest of the night on it, or almost.

"Done, at last! I'm exhausted," Ianto exclaimed.

"The suite next to this one is free," Jack suggested.

"The sun is about to rise and we should rather have left before now, don't you think?" Ianto lectured him.

"I could give you a little massage?" he proposed as innocently as he could, even if he knew Ianto was not likely to be fooled.

Obviously tired, Ianto was very defensive but the massage did seem to tempt him.

"I'm sure there's a lumbar who really wants me," Jack whispered.

"Yes, I 'm afraid so," Ianto agreed with a sigh.

It didn't take long to put the lower back in its place, and Jack went on undertaking a general inspection, but Ianto wasn't in the mood for more.

"Jack, that's enough. Stop it."

But Jack went on, clutching at the young man passionately.

"Jack's enough. I said no."

But Jack didn't stop; he was more than tired of this little game

"Stop it. Jack, you're hurting me."

But Jack didn't want to let go and Ianto was getting angry. A well placed knee brought the Captain back to his wits.

"This is over Jack. Over. You'll never touch me again."

And with that, Ianto was gone seeking refuge in the car. Jack had remained a moment, alone and miserable, brooding in frustration and anger, anger towards Ianto and himself.

The drive back to Cardiff was made in silence. Tosh had fallen asleep on Owen's shoulder and Ianto was brooding on his side. He dropped them all by their places before returning to the Hub. It was Sunday and he told them they could take Monday off, too.

He fed Myfanwy and other residents. He cleaned the cells, but it didn't calm the anger. So he settled at Tosh's workstation and began to search.

"Let's find out what he's hiding," he whispered to Mainframe.

...

It was raining cats and dogs in Cardiff, Jack was staring at his screen. Ianto was standing at the tourist office door. Jack had invalidated his security pass, and Ianto was waiting at the door, in the rain and despite the cold. Ianto had called, but Jack did not answer...

The Captain went down into Owen's lab and took three tablets from the retcon bottle the medic had prepared the day before ... enough to erase the past five years.

To be continued


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -14/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 02/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Owen.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Where everything gets worse before it gets better. Owen is a dead man walking, back from Gwen's wedding Jack made a very bad decision.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

Jack couldn't bring himself to open the door for the young man. It was Owen who did, when he came back to the Hub out of boredom later in the afternoon.

"What game are you two playing at?" the doctor said breaking into the central area with Ianto hot on his heels. "Trouble in paradise? If that's right, Jack, don't you think you're a bit old to act so childish?" Owen lectured them.

"Ianto, you should go have a good hot shower to warm you up. While you, Jack you'd better prepare something hot to drink, then try to set whatever the problem is-as grownups. I have things to do in the lab," the doctor added before leaving them alone.

"He's right, go and have a shower, I'll make hot chocolate," he told Ianto. The young man's teeth were chattering: he'd waited more than two hours under the rain. Someone more stubborn than Ianto, he had never met.

Ianto didn't protest, but instead of going for Jack's shower, he went for the staff one. He came back dressed in jeans and a jumper he kept there in case he needed to change.

Jack waited for him in the kitchen. Ianto took the cup Jack handed him, using it to warm his hands.

"Owen is right, we need to talk, Jack..." Ianto started, his voice was hoarse, more so than usual.

God, he loved that voice, so sexy! Jack remained silent, staring into his own chocolate.

"We cannot go on like this. I'm sorry-" the young man paused to take a sip of chocolate. "But it's very complicated Jack, I really don't know where to start-" He drank another sip.

Jack didn't stop him, the pain was too strong and he was unable to say anything or even move...

Ianto took another sip but didn't swallow. He stared at Jack incredulously, catching on. But it was already too late. Jack could tell and it was breaking his heart.

"Son of a bitch!" Ianto let out running to spit what he could into the sink. "How could you...? Jack, no, I will not-" Jack tried to catch him in his arms, to hold him, but Ianto ran off calling for Owen. "Owen, please help me, don't let him, please, help-"

The medic arrived just in time to see the young man fall at his feet.

"What the hell have you done this time?" Owen said, but he didn't need Jack to answer, he already knew. "A bit radical, wasn't it?" Owen bent to check Ianto, "Damn! I can't feel pulse, Jack help me!"

But Jack just stood there, unable to move. He'd done it, he had Ianto out of his life...

"Jack, this retcon, tell me you didn't take it in my lab. It was left over from yesterday, right?" Owen gave up looking for the young man pulse. He couldn't feel it, just like he couldn't feel anything at all since, thanks to Jack, he'd become the living dead. "Jack, answer me! Did you take the retcon from the lab?"

"I did. What difference does it make?" Jack replied, completely disconnected. He couldn't feel anything either, nothing mattered anymore; Ianto was out of his life...

"If your intention was to kill him, it doesn't! Jack, that retcon wasn't diluted!"

The retcon wasn't diluted. And because of Ianto's exceptional memory, he'd given him a massive dose...

"Did he drink a lot? Lord, help me Jack! Before he forgets how to breathe ...!" the doctor roared.

Ianto had only swallowed three mouthfuls, but it was pure. The poison was already in his blood stream; there wasn't much they could do. He had killed him. He had killed Ianto. Again. He never wanted that. This was a nightmare. Jack could only obey Owen's orders, as if is brain was out of order.

The doctor couldn't move Ianto's inert body alone and Jack helped him as he prepared for the gastric lavage. It wasn't going to do much good and they both knew it.

"He needs a blood transfusion, a full one," Jack finally managed to say.

"Yes, I know. The problem is Ianto has very rare blood type and I don't have enough of his blood in stock for this," the doctor replied helplessly.

"Use mine! I'm a universal donor," Jack said pulling up his sleeve. "Plus, it seems to have stimulating effect on the immune system. In the short term, at least," he added. He had never contaminated anybody that way, as far as he knew, and he had often been asked to donate blood while he was on Earth.

"What were you thinking, Jack?" Owen asked again while he set up the transfusion.

"You don't want to know, trust me," Jack replied trying to hold his bitterness.

...

Owen finally managed to stabilize the young man, but there was no way to say in what state Ianto would wake up. "Probably somewhere between a vegetable and a goldfish," Owen had stated dryly. "If he ever wakes up."

They took Ianto home. While Jack stripped Ianto and put him in bed, Owen searched the flat.

"I can't find anything, not even a picture of Lisa," Owen commented.

"His girlfriend might not have like it," Jack replied.

"Don't tell me that's why you retconned him," Owen said.

"Don't insult me, please! Believe me, this is already hard enough."

"I'm quite sure Gwen won't drop the case so easily, she will want answers-real ones."

Of course she would, and so would Tosh. He should at least be able to hold Tosh off until Gwen returned... then he would- improvise...

"Jack, come here. Look what I found," Owen called him.

Jack came out of the bedroom to find Owen bent over a wooden box. It was an old cigar box full of photos, pictures of Jack and a little brunette girl, pictures of him and Marion...

"What ...? Who's that kid? These shots must be at least 30 or 40 years old," the doctor said.

"Old story, an undercover mission. I joined a theatre troupe as a machinist. She was the daughter of the costume designer, Marion if I remember correctly, and we became very close, she was sweet-"

"How… What was Ianto doing with these pictures? Where did he get them?"

"Not a clue ...! One more question that I'm afraid will remain unanswered."

"This kid, what became of her? Do you know?" Owen asked.

"Dead. A car accident, few years ago," Jack replied shortly as his mobile started to vibrate.

"Hi, I'm listening-" he said. There weren't many people who knew this number.

"You've got yourself into one hell of a mess, Jack." It was Henry's voice. Lord Henry Lothian.

"What's the matter?" Jack asked exasperated.

"They want your head, Jack. They want you out of the game."

"What are you talking about?"

"Talk about your incompetence is spreading around. They're arranging a nice trial for you. Didn't they invite you? You need to come and defend yourself."

"What the hell is this about?" Jack asked completely at a loss.

Henry explained, Jack listened while Owen continued his search, glancing at him occasionally.

Jack hung up. He didn't answer Owen's inquiring eyebrow.

"Let's go back to the Hub," he said.

They left, taking with them the one thing they'd found in Ianto's flat: the cigar box. Ianto had nothing linking him to Torchwood. Not surprising, as Amy was visiting him as frequently as Jack had. The funny thing was, they'd never run into each other.

"I'll check on him tomorrow," Owen stated, as they returned to the Hub.

"No way," Jack demanded.

"Jack, I can find a cover story..."

"I don't want you out of the Hub, Owen. Not before-" Jack cut himself short. "They want to take over Torchwood, they want me out. And trust me Owen, you don't want to fall in their hands."

Jack went to Tosh's workstation, he needed data.

"What are you talking about? Who the hell are 'they'?"

"UNIT, the government, MI-5, the hell if I know. They want my head, that's not new. But this time someone gave them something to get it."

"Ianto?"

"It could be-" he sighed.

"But you don't have any proof, do you?"

"He hacked into Mainframe, he stole my personal codes, he used my signature," Jack listed. It wasn't really a proof and it wasn't new, as Tish had pointed out, but what Jack had found out yesterday was new. At least it was to him, and it freaked him out.

"Why would he do that?" the doctor asked out of consternation.

"I don't know, I really don't know. I'm completely at a loss," he replied. He was nothing but sincere, because no matter what Ianto had done since he'd hired him, it didn't make any sense.

To be continued.


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -15/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 03/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Owen and Lord Henry Lothian.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Jack retconned Ianto, and with Owen's help, he took him home. While they searched Ianto's flat, Jack got a phone call from an old friend and former lover.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

Jack spent most of the night working on Mainframe, while Owen spent it looking incredulously through the Torchwood 1 archives now at his disposal. The whole thing - not the mere scratches they'd saved after the motherhouse fell.

"How did he manage to rescue all this?" he asked Jack.

"It was never a rescue. He loaded Torchwood 1's database onto the internet. It could have taken months ... just as it took months for Mainframe to recover it all..."

"But to what end? Why steal data from London only to come and hide it here?"

"Good question." Jack sighed before adding, "What do you think I'm looking for?"

"Whatever. Hacking London's database under Hartman's very nose, hats off! That's called having balls!"

"If you say so," Jack snorted. "While hacking our security system and introducing a cyberman under our noses was... what was it, Owen? Remind me?" he retorted. Somehow, Ianto's exploits weren't amusing to him at all right now.

Sometime earlier, he called Tosh and told her to take three days off to go visit her grandfather, as her mother was visiting him in London...

"What are you not telling me Jack?" Owen inquired. It was somewhat surprising that Jack would send Tosh away while their available staff was already reduced by two.

"They organized some sort of court martial, just for me," he started to explain. "Someone will come and pick me up shortly."

"They send someone to look for you? Jack this place is defended," Owen began. "Don't tell me you think Ianto would have sabotaged-"

"No, he didn't. I checked. The security system is fully operational. And I reconfigured Mainframe to enable the self-destruction in case of any kind of intrusion," Jack replied. He added, "I won't let them retrieve Mainframe or the data she is holding (*), or get their hands on you."

"Thank you for your compassion, it goes straight to my heart!" Owen replied acerbically.

"Trust me on this, Owen-"

"I know! You're right. I really don't want to fall into their hands either, Jack. But what about you?"

"I don't intend to go without a fight, believe me. And most of all, I won't let them put me back in a cage," he said with a large grin, but he lacked the infuriating confidence he usually displayed.

"And what about Ianto, did you think of something?"Owen asked.

"Let's hope for his sake that his girlfriend loves vegetables and goldfish," Jack joked without much conviction.

At noon, Lord Henry Lothian's limousine was waiting for him by the water column. Jack settled in the back seat by his old friend, and waited until the driver closed the glass partition before talking.

"So, what's the program?" he joked.

The old lord looked deadly serious, impersonating the perfect gentlemen he was supposed to be completely. But to Jack, who knew him well, he was clearly uncomfortable. Was that because of the strange request Henry had made the year before?

"This isn't good Jack. Not good at all!" Henry replied, handing him three files.

Jack went through them absently, like it didn't matter, but one glance at a page was all he needed to read it. And Henry was of the few who knew this. "Is that it?" he said closing the file.

"It seems to me more than enough, don't you think? And what's with that undead story?"

"Undead? Where is there an undead?" Jack said pretending to search the records, knowing very well Henry won't buy it, just wanting to annoy him.

"Jack stop! Seriously?" Henry insisted, still deadly serious.

"Henry, you can't be serious ... undead?" Jack bluffed. How could they possibly know about Owen? That was worse than he expected. "Who will be attending the party?" he asked, still as if he wasn't taking it seriously.

"MacGregor and Stetson from UNIT, Orwell from the Chamber, Johnson from the government-"

"Wow, what a party, and just for me!"

"A representative of the Shadow will be there, too."

"The Shadow? I was told Saxon had Shut them down? Didn't he?"

"The organization lost most of its leaders. All in fact," Henry replied. "But it seems even more zealous youth took over."

The Shadow always attracted Jack's sympathy. An organization consisting of a handful of men fighting against corruption and abuse of power within the untouchables. The armies, the politicians, MI5 and UNIT were regularly in their sights. In short, they were idealists, utopians. No wonder they were the first victims of the Saxon era.

"I know the Shadow declared war on Torchwood, but it was about London and Torchwood 1. They were never interested in Cardiff, or in me in fact," he pointed out to Henry.

"The only thing I know, Jack, is they have sought and obtained a right of veto in this particular case," replied the old lord.

"And what is your part in this?" Jack asked.

"I'm just trying to help an old friend. I'm well aware not to have been very pleasant with you recently," replied Henry in a clear reference to the heart he requested from Jack. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should never have asked you that, knowing what you've been through."

"If it could have saved her, I would have done it, Henry. Believe me ..." Jack replied, sincerely before taking a lighter tone to joke, "Not that I enjoyed being butchered at all, but, hey! You're my friend. You didn't answer my question by the way."

"I don't need to tell you they forgot to send me an invitation when they decided paint a target on you."

"I would have expected that," Jack admitted.

"Do you remember Amy, my sister's daughter?"

"Rhetorical question, I suppose?" Jack replied quite surprised to have Amy brought up in this discussion. Especially as he'd almost forgotten the girl Ianto was seeing was Henry's niece.

"Of course," the old lord conceded before explaining. "As it happens, Amy has set her mind to marry a gold digger, a trickster... a lost dog without a collar, which her brother Thomas took pity on, back when they were still in school, and to whom I was wrong to open my home."

Jack was struck by this; Ianto and Amy planned to get married. He would never have guessed this. What the hell Ianto was thinking?

"I still don't know what this little shit is fiddling with, but somehow, he found himself in possession of confidential information. And more than that, he was claiming to work for the Home Office. Well, while investigating that kid, I discovered what was planned against you, and I came to warn you-"

"And that guy, what was his part? Do you know?" Jack asked.

"Him? Oh, as far as I know, none! In fact I didn't find anything at all. It was as if he'd ceased to exist when he left school," Henry replied.

"That doesn't seem to bother you that much," Jack pointed out.

"Actually, the case seems to be closed," the old lord concluded.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"Well, yesterday morning, that young rascal just showed up at the manor to tell Amy he wasn't going to marry her. Said he was in love with someone else, and guess what? His new target is a man."

"-"

"Probably very rich and very old, but that's not my concern anymore," Henry concluded, handing Jack a glass of bourbon. The Captain drank it, bottoms up.

Ianto broke up with Amy ... and that just before he turned him into a vegetable - Ianto really had intended to settle thing between them. Jack was devastated. Ianto was right; he was definitely not up to par. Since he had returned from the Valliant, he was just making mistakes - Ianto was alone, abandoned, vulnerable, and nobody would come to his rescue...

(*) For Jack, Mainframe is like a ship, this is told in another fic...

Continued...


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -16/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 04/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Lord Henry Lothian.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Jack as been taken to face a secret trial somewhere in Scotland.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

Jack was taken to his room, not a cell, even if the place looked like the Alamo. Before the attack, obviously.

He'd told Henry he wouldn't come down for dinner. He needed to be alone, to put himself back together. He had to do it, to keep on fighting. If not for himself, he had to for Owen and Tosh. Those two had only him to protect them from UNIT's wolves. And also for Ianto: who would look after him if Jack let them put him back in a cage?

Jack swung the three folders on the bed, he'll have to study them thoroughly, and find a line of defence... But first, needed a long shower.

Despite his misfortune, luck seemed to still be on his side; Henry had found out about the plot in time to allow him to defend his skin in person.

And as if to give him time to adjust, as soon as they had arrived on scene, they were told the meeting was postponed until tomorrow late morning. The representative of the Shadow had been the victim of a poisoning. That would give Jack some time to put his ideas in order...

At dawn, he went down for breakfast, hoping to have the room to himself. That hope was in vain, as he was surrounded by soldiers who were unaware of the delights of sleeping late. Sam came to join him-he was in charge of security, of course...!

"This is bullshit," he said by way of introduction.

Jack only shrugged in response.

"How these guys, these hiding cowards can allow themselves to judge you, it just makes me sick."

Jack was content to outline a half-smile.

"And according rumour, your fate depends mainly on one guy, the one from the Shadow- I wonder where he was, while the Master-"

Sam cut himself short and looked at Jack with compassion. Jack didn't need that, certainly not coming from Sam. Sam, who used to be his jailer aboard the Valiant.

"What happened to him? Indigestion?" Jack asked, he was growing annoyed and anxious for this to come to an end.

"No, murder. Or at least, attempted murder," Sam replied.

"Oh ...!" Jack let out. Working for the Shadow seemed to be even more dangerous than working for Torchwood.

After breakfast, Jack had a walk with Sam and Henry. The Scottish moor was beautiful in the mist. They walked in silence and it helped to past the time. They returned just in time to see the mysterious representative of the Shadow's helicopter landing.

"I was told the big boss was coming in person," Mac Gregor yelled to Henry with a predatory smile.

"Just for me?"Jack responded with a rebellious smile, while a very young man wearing a three-piece suit, emerged from the helicopter...

Jack wasn't paying attention. He was watching the UNIT representatives instead of looking toward the helicopter at the newcomer. It was the general air of dismay on their faces that make him look back. Ianto!

Ianto Jones! Alive and kicking, as stiff as justice, and as cold as the resistance leader who had faced the Master...

With a firm and authoritarian gesture, the young man stopped Colonel MacGregor dead in his tracks as he hastened to welcome him.

Ianto responded to a brief call on his mobile. He then walked toward the assembled UNI T staff', while the helicopter engine finally stopped its racket.

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'd like to get this started without delay. My second was victim of attempted murder and I look forward hunting down the coward who did it," he said, looking straight at Mac Gregor.

"Yes, of course, I understand ... Sir ...?" the officer mumbled, taken aback by such self-assurance.

"Jones! I'm afraid you'll have to do with Jones, only," Ianto replied in the same tone.

"I wouldn't want to look too suspicious, but can we have a look at your credentials, Mr. Jones?" Henry asked politely, but not without some disdain.

"Of course, my lord," the young man replied, handing Henry the precious document. "Now, gentlemen, can we get to work?" he asked.

Jack was shocked, just like everyone else, but probably not for the same reasons. The old officials never expected to see such a young man at the head of the Shadow. Because, yes, this was the chief officer of Shadow who had made the trip. Henry was starting to understand the mystery surrounding Amy's former fiancé. As for Sam, he recognized the young leader of the resistance.

Ianto was safe- that was all Jack needed to know right now.

They all went into a meeting room and settled around the large table set up for this purpose. Ianto took a thermos out of his case and poured himself a coffee, pointedly ignoring the tea that he had been served.

Jack watched him, dumbfounded. Calmly and without letting on, Ianto sized up the men present one by one. Once he crossed Jack's eyes, but he moved on without stopping and without the slightest trace of emotion...

He looked like a predator choosing its prey.

"Mr. Jones, did you have time to read the files?" Mac Gregor asked with some paternalism.

"I'm afraid I have been provided some sort of bullshit, a bunch of inane ranting," Ianto responded as he seized the records the Colonel handed him.

"Really, I don't understand-" Stetson began at a complete loss.

"Is this really your charge file?" Ianto asked glancing at the documents the Colonel had just handed him. Documents which looked pretty much like the ones Jack had in his hands.

"Yes, as you will notice-" Mac Gregor tried to take over.

"You call this a charge file? This Informal bunch of allegations from various unverified sources- probably unverifiable? I call it a rag unworthy of a tabloid!" Ianto stated coldly but very calmly with displayed disdain.

Taking advantage of his audience's silence, he marked his point. "What are your sources? Where's your proof? Do you even have any witnesses?"

"As you seem to have not noticed, Mr. Jones, this survey was conducted upon a secret organization-" Stetson explained condescendingly.

"What you seem to have missed, General, is that I'm the leader of an organization specialized in such investigations. Secrecy is our daily business. And this, General, is by no means the result of a field investigation! Just baseless allegations used for defamation", Ianto shut him up. He stopped to take a sip of coffee and resumed, "And keeping this theme for others, General, everyone here is accredited to the highest level of confidentiality. If you had a shred of evidence, it would be on the table ... Can we at least know who your so-called sources are? Or is that too much to ask?"

Electricity ran through the air, the old veterans had not expected to fall for such an ambush, let alone be ridiculed by a kid.

Jack gloated inwardly taking care not to cross Ianto's too piercing eyes. He didn't want to be next in his sights. The fact that the young man spent his nerves on his opponents wasn't a guarantee he wouldn't turn against Jack at the last minute. As far as he knew, Ianto was perfectly capable, after demonstrating their inabilities from A to Z,, of showing them how to tear apart a man's life.

The evidence these men lacked, Ianto could very well hold in his cute black leather briefcase.

"The captain himself acknowledged some of these facts," Stetson finally spit out.

"I beg your pardon?" Jack heard himself say, stunned, before finally asking, "What am I suppose to have admitted?"

Ianto immediately turned toward him. "Really ?" he inquired, discreetly intimating Jack to keep quiet with a glance. The young man went back to his prey.

"May I ask if there is any kind of testimony? Written records?" he kept on, mimicking the General's previous condescending tone.

"..."

"General, don't tell me you've got nothing," Ianto concluded, not faking the exasperation. The young man no longer tried to hide the cold anger within. "Don't tell me my second is now fighting between life and death in a hospital bed because of a farce."

"Mr. Jones, you wouldn't pretend to charge us without any proof," Orwell thought it wise to say.

"I never accuse without proof, Mr. Orwell. Believe me, when I file criminal charges it goes directly to the relevant judge's desk, and the only thing left to him is the arrest. No cockroaches I've pinned have ever got away free," Ianto responded tit-for-tat, glaring at him.

"Okay, I've got enough of this masquerade. We end this here and now. Clerk, note my veto against Captain Jack Harkness's layoff. This meeting is over," he added, picking up his briefcase and his thermos.

But then his mobile rang and he took the call.

"Yes?" he asked more calmly, and then tears came to his eyes. He bit his lip before answering his interlocutor, "Thank you for letting me know." He hung up and, eyes filled with tears, he turned toward Henry. "I'm sorry, my lord," he told him. Then addressing the entire meeting he announced, "Lord Thomas Prescott has died. He was 25, getting married, and he was my second, my brother, my friend ... and I will find the one who did this and on whose behalf they acted. I promise you that." Then Ianto turned to Jack and said, "I'm going to Cardiff, will you join me?"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

They travelled back in silence. Ianto stared at the horizon to better restrain tears, and Jack couldn't come with appropriate words...

Ianto was the Shadow's leader. Which explained a lot of things, but raised as many questions.

Of course he'd saved Jack's ass, but the Captain was wondering why he'd done it.

The retcon seemed to have left no trace- which was really disturbing.

To be continued.


	17. Chapter 17

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -17/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 05/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Owen.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Ianto saves Jack's ass, and takes him back to Cardiff.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

The helicopter took them back to Cardiff airport where Ianto's little blue coupe was waiting. Jack hadn't known what Ianto's car looked like, but he wouldn't have expected this.

"Nice car," he commented, taking his place in the passenger seat.

"It was Lisa's car," Ianto replied tersely.

"Oh, I might have suspected something like that," Jack replied conversationally, hoping to get Ianto to open up a bit.

"?"

"It's kind of a girl's car..." Jack answered Ianto's puzzled look.

"Not really the kind of label I'd expect from you!" Ianto retorted.

"Ianto-" Jack tried to start.

"Jack, no! Please, not now...!"

"It will never be the right moment, Ianto ..., there will always be something coming up."

"I'm taking you back to the Hub, and then I'll join Amy and Esther at to the hospital," Ianto articulated with difficulty. "As I tried to tell you: it's complicated... really complicated," the young man concluded. There was some bitterness in his voice, but mostly too much grief and Jack couldn't really unravel which resulted from his attempted retconning and which resulted from the death of young Prescott.

Arriving near the Millennium Centre, as Jack left the car, Ianto added, "As soon as I can, I'll come back and I'll explain everything... I give you my word!"

With that he was gone leaving Jack alone by the water tower.

...

"Hi! So they let you go in the end," Owen commented.

"Apparently."

"Well, well, you'll have to wait a little while before telling me the details. If the alert is over, I'll go and take a look at Ianto."

"No need," Jack replied.

"I beg your pardon?" Owen said suddenly really upset.

"He's fine," Jack added annoyed by Owen suspicious tone.

"Well? I doubt that, I've been calling his home for hours-" Owen started.

"Because he's not at home," Jack cut him short. "He was there, at the trial... He brought me back. If you don't believe me... look at the records: he left me just under the 16P camera," he tried to explain.

"Jack ...? What the hell did I missed?" the doctor said shocked.

Jack just mimed that he shared his incomprehension before moving to Mainframe.

"So that's it?" Owen asked, taken aback by Jack's dismissing calm.

"We wait until he come back to explain it all."

"What makes you believe, he will?"

"He'll be back," Jack replied confidently.

Ianto did return. Late in the evening, but he returned. He was exhausted, his eyes were red from too much crying. But he returned, and Jack went to open the door for him as he hadn't reactivated his pass. He didn't intend to do that until the young man had provided him with explanations that held the water.

Ianto came directly to snuggle against him, and he had to resist the urge to hug back.

"Ianto-" Jack protested. This wasn't like Ianto, but Jack had come to really doubt he knew anything at all about the young man.

"Jack, please," Ianto said, clearly seeking some comfort in the hollow of his neck...

"Hmm, hmm!" Owen grunted coming back from the autopsy room.

Ianto didn't even flinch.

"Jack, please," he pleaded still pressing himself against the Captain.

But Jack had taken it upon himself to resist the urge to console the young man and, as an old reflex, he completely closed up, straightening in a single block all his defences...

"Thank you!" Ianto sighed, as if he was released. "Thank you."

Puzzled, Jack gave the young man a look over: he was something like a runner trying to regain his senses after a marathon.

"Owen don't take it the wrong way, but I can't take more... really can't," Ianto tried to explain.

"Owen, get out, get out now."

"What...?"

"I'll explain later: out now!" Jack demanded.

Not very pleased, Owen left the Hub.

"You're empathic?" Jack asked in a whisper.

The young man only nodded, he was clearly on the verge of fainting.

"Ok," Jack commented, mentally checking all his psychic defences. On the Valiant they had literally collapsed and, after his return, he hadn't had the time to bother with them. In a world where true telepaths were scarce, he had other priorities.

"You're empathic, I'm a telepath... this is a good thing!" he said with a reassuring smile.

Ianto gave him a quizzical look as his only comment.

"Do you trust me?"

The young man was puzzled but way too tired to say anything.

"I promise not to retcon you! Anyway, it seems to be a waste of time and of retcon!" he joked, leading Ianto to the sofa. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll prepare an IV of glucose."

He helped Ianto to slip out of his jacket and tie, and then went down in the lab to find what he needed and a blanket. As he came back, he found Ianto curled up on the couch. He was pale and shivering.

"This is just glucose, it'll help restore some strength," he commented mechanically, pulling up Ianto's shirt sleeve, but Ianto didn't protest. Then he removed young man's shoes and wrapped him in the blanket...

"Will you have some tea? Anything warm?" he asked.

Ianto shook his head negatively.

Jack approached the coffee table to sit on and be as close as possible.

"Let me help you-" he started.

"The beach," Ianto murmured cutting him off mid track.

"The beach...?"Jack asked surprised. How the hell...?

But Ianto merely closed his eyes, too exhausted to explain.

So Jack went to look for his special place held in the bottom of his mind. His private little paradise, his place of inner peace: memories of his childhood beach back on Boeshane, and gently he lowered his defences, just enough to be able to share it with the young man.

Ianto heaved a deep sigh of relief and a smile grew on his lips as he sank into sleep.

Jack spent a long time watching over the young man's sleep.

During his stay aboard the Valiant, the Master, obsessed with Jack's immortality, had been constantly attempting to rape his mind; he was convinced he would find there the explanation for the aberration.

Jack had held against tidal winds: he was well trained against this kind of attack, as any telepaths of the Time Agency. But after his return, he cracked nervously and psychically. Like some sort of breakdown.

He had barely begun to think about rebuilding his defences about these last few days and it was requiring a lot more effort and concentration than it should have; the Master really messed him up!

The psychological state he'd been in since he returned must have been pure torture for the young empath. So, Jack spent the rest of the night trying to restore order in his mind. Strangely, it was much easier now that Ianto's mystery had begun to be unravelled.

Jack was cooking eggs and bacon when Ianto showed up in the kitchenette, dragged by the aroma. He was still sleepy, his clothes were a mess, but he looked even more sexy than usual to Jack.

"Hi beautiful! Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Hmm, hungry..." Ianto grumbled, heading for the coffee machine.

"Breakfast's ready!" Jack announced already serving.

Everything was ready on the table when Ianto put the coffee on to brew, muttering something Jack didn't decipher, and waved as he went to the bathroom.

"It's going to be cold," Jack protested.

"An urgent call of nature!" Ianto replied, a bit more awake.

Ianto wasn't long coming back, but to Jack's despair Ianto went straight to get the coffee before coming to sit with him.

"It's cold!"

"I don't care! Coffee is hot," Ianto replied.

"Just let go straight to the matter, Ianto? Assuming this is your name, because, I really doubt that."

"It's my name! Ianto Jones, born here in Cardiff, 1985, November 10. Son of Gavin Jones and Marion Cales."

"Marion! You are Marion's son! But that would make you, what? About 22 years old?"

"Yes!" Ianto replied taking a big piece of bread and eggs in his mouth.

"I don't get it...!" Jack replied, he couldn't work out why or how Marion's son could be empathic and, even more, how he could have end up working for Torchwood.

"As for your empathy, when did you discover it? And how?"

Ianto almost choked!

"From the beginning, everyone realized there was something wrong with me! My mom got scared, she took me to London, found a job, so I could be looked after, she knew someone..."

"Someone? Can you be more specific? Not someone from Torchwood, I expect. From Marion ...!"

"Oh no! Not at all. Dr. Sylphide Berthier, or at least this was the name she used. Not sure whether she was even human: she wouldn't stop warning me against Torchwood-"

"It looks like she wasn't very effective," Jack noted.

"I needed to know what I am, Jack! And that's why I applied for a job at Torchwood; I thought I would find some answers to my questions."

"And what about the Shadow?"

"I didn't find what I was looking for at the Motherhouse. However I dug up quite another monstrosity. Torchwood 1 didn't use retcon, the elimination of witnesses was systematic and more than often unjustified... I started to build cases against some gunmen, transmitting them to Scotland Yard ... one day, someone from the Shadow contacted me, and I became their agent in Torchwood."

Of course this would explain a lot of thing.

To be continued.


	18. Chapter 18

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -18/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 06/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Owen.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Back at the Hub, Jack and Ianto are finally talking. (This part, is related with the last three chapters of my Doctor Who fic: A Matter of Trust)

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

"Sylphide, how are you doing?"

"Jack. I can't believe it. What's the matter?"

"Ianto Jones," Jack said as his only response.

The Captain had waited until Ianto went down into Jack's room to have a shower and change clothes, then he called the forty-third century medic the rift had spat out in the early seventies. At the time, and with Ianto's grandparents' help, Jack managed to save her from Torchwood. Jack knew her peoples' history, they were good people and, as he'd done for a lot of other aliens, he helped her to find a place on Earth and build a new life. At the time Marion's family had been very helpful.

"Ianto? Marion's son? Oh Lord, don't tell me that kid is still alive."

"Yeah... What would be the problem with that?"

"'Cause, it can't be, Jack. That would be too awful. That kid's a level 5 empath."

"Level 5? No, that's impossible, I know what level 5 means, Sylphide, you must be mistaken," Jack replied horrified. He could never forget the children from Acaba and what they had been through. Ianto couldn't be like them and survive here on Earth by himself.

"Where is that boy Jack? Where is this poor kid?" Sylphide asked, clearly on the verge of tears.

"Uh... Currently… taking a shower..."Jack replied, still trying to put things together.

"It's impossible. That guy can't be Marion's son no matter what he pretends, Jack. Assuming he is still alive, Ianto can only be held under isolation in a small white room. This world is in no way bearable for a true empath. It would turn any level 3 empath crazy."

"You should come around. We might be able to put this together. Among other things, I'd like to know how Marion's son ended up being empathic. What happened, Syphide?"

"Marion tried to kill herself; she had lost too much blood when I found her. She would never have made it to the hospital. I transfused her with my own blood. I didn't know she was pregnant," Sylphide explained. "After that, I only saw her when she came to ask me for help in London. Ianto was already 4 years old. A nice kid, brilliant... I'm coming, Jack. I'll take the first plane. But, I'm positive he can't be Ianto."

Jack was pretty perplexed and even more upset. Too worried, he went down to reassure himself about Ianto's state. It was stupid, if Ianto had managed to survive until now, there was no reason for him to breakdown here. In the Hub even less so, when there was only Myfanwy and Jack around. Myfanwy being a reptile, and Jack being a strong telepath with strong psychic shields.

"Who were you speaking with?" Ianto asked conversationally.

"Sylphide."

"Oh! You know her? I hope you weren't calling with your mobile?"

"Yes. I was calling from my office, why?"

"If I were you, I would throw that mobile of yours in the first bin I find and buy another one. That would save you more trouble."

"Why's that? It's a secured line..." Jack protested, and then a doubt rose in his mind.

Ianto was watching him with that infuriating funny look.

"Where did you get it?"

"From UNIT. They gave me back my mobile after the Valliant."

"Right."

"# # & ."

"Captain Harkness! Did I ever tell you you're particularly sexy when you swear?"

"Do you know if they could identify my correspondents?"Jack cut him short, too worried.

"No, they shouldn't, unless their own line wasn't secure... They don't know to whom you were sharing those confidence."

"What about you, do you know?"

"Laeticia Jones, Martha's sister."

"?"

"I'm a fairly light sleeper, Jack. And I've heard you call her Tish. She was aboard the Valiant ... And I remember her."

"I beg your pardon!" Jack was dumbfounded, hardly able to articulate.

"Yes I do. Funny, isn't it? It seems this second retconning that induced rather perverse side effects," Ianto commented in a delusional tone.

"It can't be, Ianto. This is just impossible!"

"I do remember, Jack. I remember... When I woke up at home, I thought I'd had a nightmare. I only had vague memories, very confusing... But now I remember, I remember clearly. The Toclafane, the Resistance, Owen and Gwen lying in their own blood, Rhys joining us, Tosh and him executed in front of us on board the Valiant, the Master and you, Jack."

"So you do remember," Jack whispered, tears in his eyes.

"Yes, I do." Ianto replied coming to place a kiss on his lips.

"Ianto," Jack feebly protested.

"Shutttt," Ianto insisted.

Jack couldn't resist any longer, his lips answered Ianto's. He concentrated on pushing away the painful memories and let them go to succumb to the young man's desire and, of course, his own.

It didn't take long before they both ended up completely naked on the bed. Ianto didn't seem to really blame him, or he had a very strange way of showing it. Once again, Jack braced himself out of pleasure while Ianto's mouth was deliciously delivering a sweet punishment...

"Whooo" Jack growled. This had a surprising effect; so little that something had to be otherwise with Ianto...

"Uh ...? What the problem?"Jack asked when Ianto stopped to look up at him dubiously.

"As you seem to know, being empathic is really bad. But there are some compensations..." the young man explained with a mischievous grin.

"Right. Of course. I think I know what you mean," Jack said realizing what his lover was asking for. He dropped his psychic shields so as to be able to share with Ianto the pleasure he was giving him. "Better, like this?"

"# # & ." Ianto replied, jumping on his lover, his own desire multiplied by Jack's.

They made love with a renewed passion and fell asleep in each other's arms...

Until the cog door alarm awaked them.

"Grrr..." Ianto growled.

"Owen. He's bored," commented Jack.

"Can't he be bored somewhere else...?"

"Incidentally, he was really worried about you."

"I know."

"Can you still feel him?" Jack asked anxiously.

"Yep. And it's not pretty, Jack. It's cold, like being anesthetized. But the psychological pain... it's still there, more present than ever, and nothing to distract him: no more sex, no more alcohol."

"And what about you? How do you deal with it?"

"I'm trained and I know how to protect myself... to some extent, at least..." he said while heading towards the shower. "That's why I asked you to do it, Jack. Back on the Valliant... I couldn't take it any longer, and I didn't want him to use me against you," he added, looking at Jack with tenderness. And then he was gone into the shower leaving Jack alone with the awful memory.

Ianto had to really remember because there was really no one else, not even Tish, who knew that part. From all the survivors, Jack had just wanted to stop the Master from playing with his lover...

He didn't follow Ianto. He needed to put himself back together. He didn't want to put Ianto's defences to a greater test than necessary; they were already sufficiently strained by those who didn't know how to block their feelings behind psychic shields, like Owen or Gwen.

Jack waited until Ianto had finished before going into the shower. When he came out, Ianto had left the room.

"It's nice of you, Owen, but I can assure you, I'm fine," Ianto was saying when Jack arrived in the main area.

"I can confirm that," Jack commented mischievously.

"Coffee sir?" Ianto greeted him.

"Coffee," Jack replied, taking the cup Ianto was already handing him. "But even so, I want you to run a full check up on this young man, and I insist on the full, Owen."

"Jack," Ianto began to protest.

"I thought you wanted to know what was wrong with you?" Jack cut him short.

"I can tell you a check up, even a full one, won't teach you anything," Ianto retorted.

"Owen, I want a deep and detailed scan of the extraordinary brain of this young man. And redirect all your data to Mainframe. Meanwhile, you're going to analyse a DNA sample I'm going to give you. I want you to compare it to the DNA of an expected guest," Jack added to Owen.

The surgeon seemed delighted to have something to do to occupy his death...

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 -19/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 07/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Owen.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Jack asked Owen to run a full check up on Ianto and invited Syphide, an old friend, to join them. (This part is related with the last three chapters of my Doctor Who fic: A Matter of Trust)

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

"What exactly is that?" Ianto asked with a grimace.

"It's your brain," Owen replied very dubiously.

They were both standing behind Jack and looking over his shoulders at the screen of Tosh's workstation. The Captain had again brought up to study, via mainframe, scans and other tests Owen had subjected Ianto to.

"It doesn't look like a brain to me. I'm not a doctor, but I can tell that isn't a brain," Ianto retorted.

"Of course, we never said it was a picture of your brain. In fact, it's a map of your brain waves," Jack explained.

"Oh, I might have guessed... but it still doesn't look right."

"Structurally, your brain is completely normal," the doctor said.

"Structurally?" Ianto repeated. "Why don't I like you using that word?"

"Normally, Humans use only a fraction of their brain, especially first generation Humans," Jack began to explain.

"Why do I feel you don't include yourself in that lot?" Owen dropped looking sharp at the Captain.

"Because you're far from stupid. I am actually a second generation Human."

"How much more of your brain... do you...?" Ianto asked.

"A little more..."

"But not as much as that," Ianto deduced, a little worried.

"Nope! Far from it. Very far from it... in fact."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Ianto asked. "What's wrong with me?"

Owen was still trying to find meaning in what he was looking at.

"This is the result of alien blood contamination. It turned on dormant areas..."

"But how did this happen? I couldn't have been more than 4 years when it started..."

"You were infected in utero. Sylphide confirmed the fact," Jack said.

"?"

"Who is this Sylphide?" Owen asked.

"A doctor from the forty third century who fell through the rift. She's an alien and she contaminated Ianto," Jack explained.

"Contaminated, but how?" Owen asked puzzled.

"The Kethans are highly compatible with Humans. Sometimes even more compatible than Humans are with each other. It was a blood transfusion."

"Is she the guest we're expecting? The one you wanted me to compare the DNA with?"

"Yes."

"What DNA are you two talking about? You said earlier I was fully human..." Ianto said, totally at loss.

"The Kethans are a highly psychic species. Usually their blood activates only known areas of the brain... but in your case, it goes much further..."

"I don't understand. Owen do you understand what that means?"

"Not a clue, mate."

"Sylphide is mainly Kethan. She would be responsible for the empathic part. But there is much more here. On the other hand, she had a Human great-grandmother who flirted with a strange traveller of an unknown species... When he left her, she was pregnant... his DNA was never identified. It could be the cause of this over-activation..."

"I don't get it, where does that leave us? Owen?"

"Completely dropped," the doctor replied before turning to Jack. "The sample you gave me is partly Human, did you know that?"

"Yes, and it could be a bit foolish. In fact, I'm probably wrong. It's just something Sylphide told me in the old days about her great-grandmother. It nagged at me but, at that time I couldn't check it. If I'm right it would explain a lot about you, Mister Jones."

...

Jack left Owen and Ianto alone in the Hub and went to the airport to get Sylphide. He wanted to have a word in private with her. The last time they had met, he was still under Torchwood's control. Now he was the boss.

"I never thought one day I'd come back here," she said.

Another way to say she never expected to see him take charge of Torchwood. And it was rather clear she wasn't at ease with it. Normally, for her, Torchwood was the enemy. Or, at least, had long been.

"You know, I haven't changed my tune, I'm the same guy," he said with a grin while he opened the passenger door of the SUV.

"It's still weird, let's talk about the kid..."

"You must know he grew up... and now that kid work for me," he said.

"Jack, it's really not possible. I can't believe it."

"Same for me. I don't know how this is possible but I know it is. My physician performed a MatQ scan on him, and the results are quite unexpected."

"A MatQ scan? Here? In the twenty-first century...? Well, I'd rather not know," Sylphide gasped.

"Over 70% of the brain's connections are activated," Jack finished.

"70%? You're going to say I repeat myself, but it can't be..."

"Yeah, but I can understand," he acknowledged. He'd seen a lot more than she ever would and sometimes, things still surprised him.

In fact, if Jack had never met and travelled with the Doctor, and if had he not been intrigued by Sylphide's strange ancestor (from what Sylphide had told him about her, Sylphide's great-grand-mother was the perfect companion) it would probably have been as hard to believe...

"I think your mysterious great-grand-father could be the missing link," he said.

"?"

"I would like to compare your DNA to a sample that I have in storage..."

"What do you expect to do with it? My people compared it with all known DNA and never found anything matching. And the current means are ridiculous, you wouldn't be able to tell my daughter isn't fully humans with them," she argued

"The MatQ scan isn't the only nice little toy the rift has brought me," he replied with his mischievous grin. "Oh, and before I forget: my doctor is kind of a zombie..."

"!"

"Just to let you know. He is a bit touchy on the subject," he added driving the SUV into the car park. Sylphide herself being empathetic, like all her species, it was better to let her know. Although she was, naturally, better equipped than Ianto to deal with it...

"Jack, if I may?"

"Yes?"

"Your psychic defences aren't nearly as tight as in the past... he is vulnerable..."

"You're right about my defences. As for Ianto, however, he is not nearly as vulnerable as he should be. Believe me."

They found Owen sitting in front of Tosh's terminal. He barely looked up when they arrived.

"Where's Ianto?" Jack asked, casting an eye toward the kitchenette.

"With Myfanwy!" Owen replied, indicating the heights of the Hub.

"Myfanwy?"

"Our pterodactyl."

As always, Jack couldn't help but enjoy the way people reacted to their pet.

"A pterodactyl?"

"Tamed by your protégé," he added.

That fact did raise Owen's interest.

"Protégé?"

"Long story," Jack cut him off. Having both Owen and Sylphide stunned made him feel exhilarated. Ianto would surely say this was childish, but it felt so good.

Ianto finally came back. He was a bit defensive, but Sylphide went to hug him and he let her do so. Then she pulled him closer, putting her forehead against his.

"Shhhh," she whispered. "Let me look at you," she added softly.

But Ianto didn't and she met the full force of his mental barrier before Jack had time to react... She was pushed away as if an invisible force had struck her. Jack and Owen rushed to help the woman to her feet while Ianto shrank back against the nearest wall, shaken by his own reaction...

"Not so vulnerable, indeed," Sylphide commented, regaining her balance.

"What was that?" Owen asked, concerned.

"A mental shield, a very powerful one... How...? Who taught you that?"

"You," Ianto replied.

"No! Never. Nothing close to it. I only taught you how to protect yourself, this is much more. It's a counter attack." Perplexed, she turned toward Jack. "Jack, did you?"

"Oh no, I can somehow stand up against a psychotic Time Lord, but I can't send him a backlash."

"A what?" the two doctors asked in unison.

"Long story," Ianto replied. "And anyway... out dated," he added, addressing a small smile to Jack.

Jack wasn't going to tell how Ianto had blocked the Master from trying to get into his mind as efficiently as he just did with Sylphide. But knowing Ianto remembered was something he needed to keep in mind and get used to.

To be continued...


	20. Chapter 20

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 - 20/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 3:** A Matter of Trust 08/08

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto and Owen.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** Jack asked Owen to run a full check up on Ianto and invited Syphide, an old friend, to join them. (This part is related with the last three chapters of my Doctor Who fic: A Matter of Trust)

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

"How does it work?"Owen asked.

"Our blood activates connections that should remain dormant, but it doesn't change the body's biochemistry. It's just an enabler. The subject is still human with his physiological and psychological limitations."

"Yes, I'm beginning to understand the problem, but what kind of side effects are we talking about exactly?" he asked, fully aware the others were reluctant to tell him which psychic gifts Ianto had inherited.

"Empathy, mostly," Ianto finally said.

"Empathy?" Owen repeated incredulously.

"Yes! I feel... I feel what people around me feel, physically and eventually emotionally."

"What do you mean by 'eventually'?" Owen asked. He was beginning to get why they were reluctant.

"Some people are able to build walls to protect their mental thoughts and emotions, in that case, I only feel the physical sensations... I use the same techniques to protect myself from external aggressions."

"External aggression?" Owen repeated.

"For Human empaths who aren't dotted with natural defences, the proximity of others is painful at all times. At best, with the proper training, they can withstand at low-doses, the proximity of others," Sylphide explained. "Initially, the compatibility of our species seemed to be a good thing. For the half-blood there were no side effects, in cases of transfusion to an adult. Some cases with development of levels 1 or 2 empathy were soon established in pure Humans. It could become level 3 in teenagers, but it was very rare...,"she continued to an attentive audience. "Unfortunately, children infected in uteri, or within the first few months of life, developed empathy between levels 4 and 5-extremely disabling empathy."

"Oh, I suppose, our friend here, can consider himself lucky then," Owen concluded.

Neither Jack nor Sylphide wanted to disabuse him of this notion. As for Ianto, even if he suspected his empathy was not light, he didn't know what was worse. And even if he knew he would certainly have kept it to himself.

While speaking Sylphide was reviewing the scans results. For his part, Owen had launched the DNA comparison.

"Have you ever seen this?" Jack asked.

"Apart from in some of your S.F. movies? No," she answered.

"In those kinds of movies, this kind of stuff always ends badly," Owen noted.

"Does it have a meaning for you? Can you tell what it implies?" Ianto asked uncomfortable.

"Yes and no, some of the areas activated are well known: here and here and there, sit the different forms of memory. I remember you had an amazing memory..." she replied, pointing to the areas involved.

"Yes, I can confirm that. 'Amazing' being the right word. A memory with backup and the ability to reboot," Owen commented. He still couldn't quite believe that said memory had survived Jack's massive retconning.

Syphide gave him an inquiring eyebrow, but didn't ask.

"This is the place of empathy, and there, of telepathy..." Sylphide continued.

"I'm not a telepath," Ianto protested.

"It looks like you are indeed," she replied.

"I think I would have realized it, don't you think?" Ianto remarked sarcastically.

"Not necessarily," Jack started with a big smile. He added, "Your definition of telepathy is phantasmagorical. Reality is different, and your empathy may well hide it."

"Jack is an expert on the subject, he knows what he's talking about," Sylphide said with undisguised admiration.

"Don't tell me you're a telepath? You can read our thoughts?" Owen asked offended.

"No, Owen! That's what I was trying to explain. That's fantasy," Jack retorted. "Telepathy is a communication mode, it allows two or more people to communicate via a psychic frequency, but it requires training and discipline," he added.

"So what about the psychic wall, is that only for fun?"Ianto asked.

"I'm not saying aggressive telepathy doesn't exist. It's mental rape, psychic torture," Jack replied, his eyes begging Ianto not to persist on this topic.

"So you can't read our thoughts?" Owen insisted on bringing out his personal concern.

"Except when they scream. In short, when you think very hard: Go to hell! I can hear it as if you'd said it aloud," Jack replied mockingly.

Sylphide was still staring at the monitor, she looked perplexed. Ianto considered her.

"Okay leave the telepathy case for later. Are there more good surprises?" he asked.

"I really don't know what to think about the other areas; I imagine you're good at math and logic..."

"I can manage."

"We've got the result of the DNA comparison," Owen announced, inviting Sylphide to join him on his own terminal. "And it appears to be a winning ticket."

Jack and Ianto went to look over the shoulders of two doctors.

"Where did you find this DNA?" Sylphide asked very intrigued.

"Someone who crossed my path," Jack replied.

"Not the Doctor," Ianto set out as an obvious fact. Not only the DNA was partially human, but it belonged to someone female.

"No, but it is Time Lord DNA," Jack admitted.

"Time Lords are legendary," Sylphide exclaimed incredulously.

"That was what we were told back at the Time Agency. They were only ugly hobgoblins waved to scare newbies: Beware, if you fuck with the flow of time, they will fall above, clean up your mess, and you'll be lucky if they don't clean you out with it," Jack replied. "In 1941, I made a beautiful mistake, the perfect blunder, it almost caused the extinction of the human race, just like that," he said snapping his fingers. "The Doctor showed up and he cleaned up the mess. I was lucky, Rose was there, and I had saved her life," he continued almost to himself.

The others, except Ianto, were completely floored.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Jack took Sylphide to the airport hotel. She would go back home on the first plane to join her family. He remained vague about the DNA sample's origin. It upset her a bit.

"Your grandfather was a legend, you should be happy to know that?" he told her. "But you'd better keep that to yourself."

"What about Ianto?"

"I'm afraid only time will bring answers."

End of the episode.


	21. Chapter 21

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 - 21/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 4:** About telepathy

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ianto

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** After the matter of trust evens, Jack and Ianto are having a little session.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

Jack admired the spectacle he was offered: his young lover still dressed in his three-piece suit, but frankly scruffy. Tie undone hanging apart from his neck. Jacket and vest unbuttoned and somewhat ruffled from their frolicking in the kitchen. The dark red shirt was revealing Ianto's slightly hairy chest. He didn't even bothered to loop his belt back, leaning against the doorway, hands in pockets, he was looking at Jack with mischievous eyes...

Tosh had left less than thirty minutes earlier. Jack had almost had to throw her out. It felt like not only Gwen was on honeymoon... since he and Ianto started to share a little of their respective secrets, they seemed impossible for them to go one minute without touching... It felt wonderful.

Jack didn't dare ask Ianto about his broken engagement. He wasn't supposed to know about it... and did it matter anymore? They were good together and that was the most important thing, right?

"What you'd say, we go home?" the young man said, deciding to restore order in his clothes.

"It'll be quicker to get down to my place," he offered in return.

"If this place wasn't haunted day and night by a zombie, I would agree, but that's not the case."

"He left."

"Yes, but for how long?"

"It didn't seem bother you back in the kitchenette?" Jack bantered.

"All the more reason not to tempt fate," Ianto replied.

As if to make his point, the cog door alarm announced the incoming doctor.

"All right, your place," Jack yelped grabbing his coat.

"Good night, Owen," they said in chorus passing the physician.

"Of course," he growled in response.

...

Jack really loved to contemplate how Ianto could let go during sex. Ianto always so composed, so measured... And of course, as he said, one of the rare advantages of empathy was to be able to feel your partner's pleasure on top of your own.

Jack was a little empathic, but so little that he needed to concentrate to feel something which he could not always define.

As for Ianto, it was the opposite: he needed a perpetual wealth of concentration to filter out what other people felt... and Jack didn't envy that fate ... but during sex, it must have been amazing.

They could have shared that using telepathy, but Ianto didn't seem to be very interested in learning to use that gift. Jack had tried to explain, but Ianto had dismissed it.

"My life is complicated enough. I don't need to play with that."

"Exactly, it could help..."

"I don't see how lowering my shields and allowing you to enter into my mind could help me. Especially when I can still see and feel the effects of the Master's interfering with your mind."

"That was mind rape, I'm not going to rape you."

"Still."

"During sex you lower your shields, right?"

"Yes, of course," Ianto agreed.

"I don't intend to rummage, or venture in to your mind," Jack pleaded. "Besides, I'm not crazy," he added. Especially given the way Ianto had received the Master when he had the bad idea to probe Ianto's mind about his feelings.

"He took revenge on you?" the young man asked concerned.

"I had just broken his brand new toy," Jack replied. He really needed to work on strengthen his defences back up. "Don't worry about me, Ianto. I regenerate, my mind is just a little slower than my body, but I will recover... I'm sorry; I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm okay, Jack. If everyone out there could control their emotions as much as you do right now, it would be great, believe me. And at least, this way, I know you're human."

"What ?"

"Well, at the beginning, I felt nothing from you... emotionally speaking. I confess I wondered a bit, because apart from Myfanwy..." Ianto explained with a small smile.

"What about Lisa?"

"She was hurting so much and so scared, it made it easier to bring myself believe it was obliterating any other feeling."

"You must have been through hell..."

"Drop it, and tell me about that telepathy of yours."

"Okay. Basically telepathy is a sensibility enabling people to communicate safely and silently. It can't convey words, but it's also an easier way to share a whole concept or feeling. Strong telepaths can also help their telepathic partners through a psychic fight."

"Yep, and how do you do that?"

"First we need to build a link. It means getting inside to connect our minds and opening a private line between us. Once that's done, you can choose to use it or not. As you don't know how it works, I will have to take the lead."

"And what about... privacy or piracy?" Ianto asked.

"No risk. That kind of line is of the most private, and I have never seen a psychic firewall such as yours," Jack replied.

"And how do we proceed?"

Jack sat on his heels, fired him one of his most encouraging smiles and explained.

"Come to sit in front of me," he said indicating the sheets between his thighs. "As close as possible."

Ianto positioned himself in front of Jack, sliding his knees between Jack's legs to be closer: that wasn't going to help with concentration... Even less so since they were both naked.

"What should I expect?" Ianto asked. He was really not feeling comfortable with this.

"Give me your hands, or rather take mine," Jack corrected. "Try to empty your mind, to relax, think of the beach, for example..."

"Yes, precisely. Wasn't that quite an intrusion?" Ianto said with a cringe.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The beach. Don't tell me you didn't place it in my head during the very early days, right after Lisa...?"

"I didn't force it on you, Ianto. You were exhausted, in a state of extreme stress. It was a mental caress, nothing more. I used the beach to calm myself and shared with you the plenitude of it. When you told me you could actually see the beach, I was really surprised. You appropriated it yourself, Ianto. I didn't put anything in your head."

"And right now, what do you intend to do?"

"I doubt you ever let me in," Jack replied with a sigh. "If you're not entirely cooperative I can't do anything."

"Why does it upset you so much?" Ianto asked.

_Damn!_

"I'm not upset. Well not like you make it sound. It's just... well, fixing a link is really intimate, more intimate than anything you can imagine, and you aren't ready... and that's a game, you cannot cheat at..."Jack replied.

He gently dragged the young man closer to take his lips... one kiss called another one. Their hands dropped to wander, each exploring the body of the other. Gradually Ianto dropped his defences while Jack was surrendering in his arms. They made love once again, like the two soul hungry for affection they were, although neither of them was really ready to admit it.

Jack let go of all mental barriers, leaving his mind floating, dancing, and radiating his blessedness. If Ianto had endorsed the beach, he should be able to join him there, on the edge of his consciousness...

They remained like this for a long time brushing timidly, secretly, mentally...

Then Ianto let go enough to allow Jack to wrap him with his affection as he coiled up against him. That's how, for the first time, they fell asleep together on a sandy beach at the other end of the universe...

It was just a first step, but it was so good...

End of that episode.

More to come.


	22. Chapter 22

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 - 22/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 5:** Wandering and time paradox 1/3

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ingrid

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** A little flashback in Jack's life, where he met a very strange young woman.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

In Spring 1909, Torchwood sent him to Gothenburg to investigate a series of suspicious events. To make sure he came back in Cardiff, they'd given him minimal money and a return ticket. Moreover, they kept his precious bracelet _hostage_. Even if they had no idea why, or what it was, Torchwood knew the bracelet was precious to him. But even if they were right about that, what they didn't know was it was going to be useless for a while, as it was out of power. Assuming it was only a battery problem, he would have to wait until 1941 to get a new one.

With any luck, if he was still there then, and managed a way to be in London, he should be able to recover the batteries on board his Chula ship. He could do it while he and Rose went in search of the Doctor. Or better: he could wait until their last expedition in search of the Chula ambulance, that way he could get his square gun in the process, as the Doctor hadn't confiscated it again after it had run out of batteries. As a matter of fact, Jack had some spare batteries aboard. He would just have to be quick and take them before his mortal self came back to stop the German bombfrom killing Rose and the Doctor.

Until then Jack was reduced to doing within the means of the time, plus some alien tech recovered by Torchwood. Funny thing, since his arrival pretty much everything just broke down... Some day they were probably going to make the connection, but he couldn't afford to let them play with all the toys the rift was throwing out.

Jack had agreed to work for Torchwood under duress. It helped him to have something to do while waiting for the Doctor but that wasn't the only point. The rift was really a problem and Torchwood was completely overwhelmed and had it completely wrong. In a way it was making him feel useful, but he really hated their methods. They not only executed and dissected all the unfortunate creatures the rift spat out in more or less good condition, but they were doing it without distinction. And they were not necessarily doing it in the right in the order...

No, Jack didn't like them at all and it was mutual; they never missed an opportunity to try to kill him.

As soon as they came up with a new idea, they had to try it on him. He was getting bored of that little game. Dying wasn't fun and coming back to life, not much better.

Jack had just finished his job in Gothenburg, he only had some _cleaning_ to do. When Jack arrived the Doctor had already left. Of course. And as most of the time, the Doc had left without looking back, leaving behind him a mess to deal with.

Now, Jack had no spare money, not even enough to buy a meal. He was in no hurry to return to Cardiff, either.

It was a beautiful spring day. At least for Gothenburg. Even if the city was located in the south of Sweden, the fact remained that it had nothing to do with the Mediterranean. Pompeii... the sun... his first mission as an archaeologist for the Time Agency; what a spring it had been.

Jack came to a stop at the corner of two busy streets. He made sure no magistrate was to be seen then he stopped the first person who seemed to wander aimlessly and he began to tell a story.  
Obviously, as he didn't speak Swedish, he used the most universal of languages: mime.

Very soon a small crowd gathered around him. The spectators were quite intrigued, and perhaps a little suspicious. Then there was that laugh. A light laugh, a real laugh of joy. It called out to more.

Jack continued undisturbed. Coins began to accumulate on the coat he had placed on a bench next to him. The laughing girl remained, watching and laughing, until the sun got too low and the cold got too sharp. Jack collected the coins and put his coat back on.

"Shall I invite you?" he suggested, without much hope.

She was a very young woman, wearing one of those big dark dresses that climbed to the chin and a cloak sweeping the ground. In this new century, a young lady should have been accompanied by a chaperon.

"Why not?" she replied to his surprise.

They went to take refuge in a small inn, where he asked a table by the fire. As a gentleman, he helped her out of her coat. She would keep staring at him with wide eyes and a strange excitement... it was fun and... kind of strange.

They talked about travelling.

She asked him point blank to tell him about his travels, cities and countries he had visited. She had assumed with no real reason that he was a traveller. However, she didn't ask where he was coming from, or even his name. She spent the meal listening to his stories and laughing with a certain melancholy he couldn't place.

She was beautiful; she had the very pale skin of a Scandinavian. Her hair was so blonde it seemed to be made of silver. She might have been twenty years old or so. In that time, an _honest girl_ should have been married, but she wasn't wearing a ring. Yet she was nothing of a whore... she looked almost as out of place as he was. Jack felt like he was under a spell.

"It's getting late, I should take you back home before anyone gets to worrying," he suggested.

He was rewarded with a new burst of laughter, a new burst of happiness.

"I doubt anyone suspects me to be out. I escaped."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be restrained in my room," she said.

"Restrained? Are you also denied meal?"

"No. Of course not. But I locked my door from the inside; my mother will believe me to be sulking."

"I'd better take you back before the deception is discovered," he concluded, getting up to help her with her coat.

Her home was behind the Presbyterian Church. She confessed to be the pastor's daughter.  
It didn't prevent her from taking his arm as soon as they were out of the inn and cuddling against him seeking warmth.

They went around the house, everything was quiet. Her absence didn't seem to have been discovered.

"My room is up there, the second window from the left," she said.

"You are a true cat, Miss."

"Ingrid. My name is Ingrid."

"Jack, Captain Jack Harkness."

"Really?" She asked in a new burst of laughter which she quickly suppressed in her hands.

"It was a joy, Ingrid. Really," he said, taking her hand to kiss it gently.

This girl was a miracle, a ray of sunshine... in a half-day she had reconciled him with the human species and with life...

"And what about giving me a ride, Captain?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't tell me a little climbing scares you?"

"Uh, climbing? Not really. The pastor, a little more, I must admit," he answered a bit confused. He was more upset for her than for him, of course.

"In fact that was just the idea, I must confess."

She looked like a little girl confessing a secret and, just for a second, she reminded him of Rose.

"?"

"I'm pregnant, Jack, and he won't come back."

Jack stared at her, not knowing what the hell he was suppose to say or do.

"The plan is: you come up with me, we enjoy our self doing dirty things until morning. Then you let my father surprise us in bed. He'll marry us on the spot and we'll be free to fly away... All around the world. There so many places I want to visit, Jack."

"Uh...!"

"Jack...? Say yes, please..."

Jack stared at her for a short while. She looked like a lost child looking at a Christmas tree. Only one girl had ever looked at him like this, and that was so long ago. Jack said yes.

He climbed with her into her room. They made love. The girl wasn't shy at all and it'd been awhile since Jack had felt this good with someone...

The pastor's wife _surprised_ them at dawn and, after a scene worthy of a farce of Moliere or Shakespeare, he said yes and married Ingrid. They fled with the dowry, and begun an endless journey.

Ingrid dreamed of the New World. He suggested starting with Europe. There would still be time to leave the Old World, when the war would be too close. He didn't know this time in history as well as he knew Antiquity or even the Renaissance, but he knew that a terrible war would soon inflame Europe. And it would be better not to be around with a young child.

To be continued


	23. Chapter 23

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 - 23/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood

**Part 5:** Wandering and time paradox 2/3

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack/Ingrid, Mira

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** A little flashback in Jack's life, where he met a very strange young woman and became a father.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

Jack was happy. Happy as he had only been while travelling with Rose and the Doctor.

Moreover, Ingrid reminded him of Rose. Not physically, Ingrid was tall and shaped like a vine. Her eyes were so clear he couldn't name the there was that laugh, that laugh of false carelessness, her true recklessness, a rare generosity and an _amazing_ curiosity. A selective one, if he pondered on it...

Ingrid always wanted to know how things worked, and assumed Jack knew... But she never asked how he knew and didn't seem to be bothered about it. She never once asked question about his past either...

She wasn't offended if his eyes came to rest on a man, mentally undressing him... And for a minister's daughter, she seemed surprisingly open about sex!

She seemed to find it quite normal that he managed to be understood everywhere they went.

She never seemed to wonder how Jack could carry on only sleeping, at most, one or two hours a night.

In this new century, an honest job would hardly have allowed him to support the life they had chosen. While Ingrid was sleeping, Jack would get up and spend the rest of his nights in gambling dens playing and winning. Just what was needed for their comfort, but he didn't want to draw attention...

Anyway, they didn't need much, only the money to pay for food, train tickets or boats and of course the inn...

They travelled down and across Europe, taking advantage of the railway expansion, never stopping for more than ten to fifteen days in the same city, with an exception for Berlin, where Mira was born into the world in a hotel room. Jack went in search of a midwife when they first arrived in town. A true vixen, with whom he had to fight to stay with Ingrid during labour:

— _This is no place for a man, Mister._

— _Not that I like it, but as she want me by her side, I'll be there_, he insisted.

November 13, 1909 Jack became a father, even if he was only a surrogate. He didn't mind and was happy. Mira didn't much change their way of living.

During the day, Jack and his little family enjoyed life. They visited, playing tourists, curious about everything. Jack made sketches, like in the old time when he was an archaeologist, while Ingrid would take notes... as for Mira, as soon as she was old enough, she would run, climb, and discover the world with eyes of a curious toddler.

They never stayed anywhere long, but he wasn't always the one giving the signal. Sometimes, Ingrid could decide to leave a place right away. More than once he'd come back in the morning to find their luggage at the ready. Once she might have saved the day: as they went out of the inn using the back door, Jack spotted men looking much like Torchwood arriving by the front.

Ingrid might have noticed he didn't thrust any British folk of any kind, even if, once again, she never asked why.

Soon war was threatening. Or, at least, it was close, he knew that much and it was time for them to abandon the old continent to its fate. Ingrid dreamed of New York, Manhattan, but Jack had some difficulty raising the necessary funds for the crossing. A decent cabin on a transatlantic ship was expensive, but what wouldn't he do for his girls?

Jack agreed to participate in a big game, the kind he usually avoided. The kind that might get you into trouble... He managed to win enough and went out without fuss. It was dawn when he walked back to the inn, making sure he wasn't followed. When he passed the night porter, the man didn't even move an eyelid.

Arrived on the landing of the third floor, he removed his shoes and walked silently towards the room they rented in this hostel. He opened the door carefully so as not to wake his wife and daughter who should be still sleeping.

— _Jack, run away!_ was the last thing he heard.

...

Jack woke up with a sheet over his face. Some people around were speaking. Despite his apprehension, he played dead... until the investigators left the room.

He pushed the sheet away to find himself still in their room. A body was lying next to him. A wave of apprehension got him. He lifted the sheet: Ingrid. His heart broke, and then fear overwhelmed him.

_Mira? Where was Mira? _There was no sign of her. He went to listen at the door. In the corridor one of the investigators was speaking with their landlady.

— _Four men and a woman, they had a car and they took the kid... there was a kid, a true little angel, no more than four years old_, the landlady was saying...

Torchwood? It looked like them, but why taking Mira and leave him behind? It wasn't making much sense. He couldn't wait any longer. If Torchwood believed Mira to be his daughter…Hhe just didn't want to think about what they could do with her. He threw himself out of the room, taking advantage of the confusion to relieve the policeman of his gun, and ran away, stealing the motorcar waiting at the front door. He had to find Mira, He would mourn Ingrid later, with her, when they were together and preferably on a boat sailing far away.

Jack found them quickly. It wasn't complicated; there was only one town they could stop at on the way to Oslo. And, as Great Britain remained an island, Mira's ravishers had to take a boat to go back home. At that time, Hamar wasn't a very large city, and the only fine hotel was The Palace. Torchwood had rent two suites with all the modern comforts.

Jack got himself hired for a day job. Two of the men had supper in the dining room while the others, the woman, and Mira, ate in the suite. Jack waited until after super, when the men from Torchwood shifted. The two from upstairs went to the lounge as the other two went up to stay with the woman and Mira. Jack climbed across the balcony and went through the window to make sure Mira wasn't drugged. Mira was alone in her bedroom.

— _Tad? Mom... the bad men, they killed Mama..._

— _Hush... Keep quiet. Whatever happens, you stay here in this room until I come back to get you, okay?_

Jack rushed out into the other room, closing the door behind him. He fired without warning, killing the woman and the men on the spot. He searched their bodies; they were from the Motherhouse, not from Cardiff. That would explain a lot. They might not have known who he was, but it implied that they were after Ingrid, or more likely Mira. But not because they believe her to be his daughter.

Jack felt stupid. How could he have missed that? He was _the_ time traveller. He should have seen it. Ingrid must have known who he was from the start. She knew who she was marrying. How could he have been so blind?

He confiscated Torchwood weapons and ammunitions, and waited for the two other men and shot them as they rushed in through the stairs' door. Then he went back in Mira's room, wrapped her in a blanket and ran out in the night.

— _Mama won't come back?_ Mira asked.

— _No, she won't sweetheart._

He had stolen Torchwood's car in the process. It wasn't like if they were going to need it anymore. He abandoned it to take the train. It was only then he'd realise his precious earnings had disappeared somewhere in the in-between. He was on the run, now not only hunted by Torchwood, but also the police. He had no savings and a young child to look after and protect.

The next night, he stopped, renting a room in a guesthouse.

— _Did your mother ever tell you about your other father?_ Jack had insisted on Mira knowing about him not being her true father.

— _Mama said you're my only father because you'd always be there. You will always come back_, the little girl recited like a lesson.

— _I need to know, Mira. Very bad men will come for us_.

— _The men who killed you and Mama_?

— _Yes._

Mira had been there, she had witnessed it all.

— _Mama said he's a traveller and his blue box can fly to the stars but not like an aeroplane_, Mira explained. _Unlike them, she doesn't have wings either_, she added with a shrug.

Jack burst out laughing. It was the way his little sweetheart had said those words. Or sweethearts?

He took her close in his arm. They stayed a while, hugging and crying silently. When in the end, Mira fell asleep, he put her in bed. He stared at her for a moment, then, he leaned close to her chest, listening: two hearts were beating distinctly.

To be continued...


	24. Chapter 24

**Title:** Jack's and Ianto's Private Archives – Season 2 - 24/28

**Fandom:** Torchwood/Doctor Who

**Part 5:** Wandering and time paradox 3/3

**POV:** from Jack's point of view.

**Characters/pairings:** Jack, Mira, Owen.

**Rating:** PG-15

**Summary:** A little flashback in Jack's life, it's World War One, and Jack is a lonely father running away with a baby Time Lady.

**Disclaimer:** The usual, I don't own what you'll be able to recognize, the rest is all mine.

**Beta:** czarina_kitty

...

With Ingrid's death, Jack discovered the joys of being a single father at the beginning of the new century... To start with, making a living was becoming more complicated, especially since he feared abandoning Mira for more than very short periods of time with a babysitter... He couldn't trust anyone enough.

And then, the war came. The one which was going to be named the Great War or the last war. Until the next one, of course.

Avoiding the war wasn't easy and, for the first time in his life, Jack bitterly regretted having selected the Italian Renaissance as his option back at the Time Academy. The war was everywhere and it always ended up catching up with them. His "American" accent helped him for some time to escape a forced conscription. Being a lonely father helped too, but it would not last. Men were becoming scarce and American volunteers...

Jack finally found a compromise: real false documents making him Steven Matthews, an American widower and a nurse, with his eight-year-old daughter Kate. He spent nearly two years working in a battlefield hospital in the north of France. The facility was set in an Ursuline Covent. For Jack, it was very convenient. The nuns somehow insured school was available for the girls from the town, because someone had to take care of them while their mothers were running the factories and their father were most of the time lost on some or another battlefield.

Of course, there were many officers who ranted that a man of his strength and stature should be on the front, but Dr. Astruc was not ready to let his miracle nurse go. No, only nurse Matthews assured him more than his guard and he had a strong stomach. Matthews had a gift for calming patients, and that was very precious. Medicine was spare and not always efficient.

Matt, as they all called him, never counted his time and was fully involved in his work. Always listening to the wounded, he never hesitated to give up his sleep and to take the hand of an unfortunate and accompany him to the end. He had a way of talking to them, or simply staying by their side, murmuring a strange lullaby...

Matt also knew how to boost the morale of the troops-meaning the staff, of course. And this wasn't to be under estimated, because with so much suffering to deal with and so little means, not just stomachs had to be strong. Matt was always even-tempered.

Everyone liked him in the hospital and if he hadn't been so naughty, the nuns would have canonized him alive.

Jack spent his little free time with Mira. She had grown up and she was very clever: no wonder! She didn't sleep much more than he, so they took up the habit of settling on the roof of the barn to watch the stars.

Jack would tell her about the incredible journeys of the Tardis' strange crew and Mira would listen, dreaming of a world without war, and of extraordinary trips on board a fabulous ship...

The war bogged down. The spring passed and then summer and now winter promised to be in early November. It seemed to Jack that the war was coming to an end, but he wasn't sure. He shouldn't have skipped so much of Professor G'tong history courses. At least he would have the basics, now he had to do with just the titles.

He had promised Mira they would resume the road for her birthday, whatever happened, war or no war... But Jack was never going to celebrate the armistice...

It was November 8, 1918, when they burst into the hospital. Jack was upstairs in the large dormitory occupied with re-dressings. Concentrating on his task, he only looked up at the sound of mother Thibaude's protests.

"Who do you think you are? This is a hospital here!" she claimed.

They shot him on sight, without summations. Jack didn't have time to react, just to register the silhouettes of what might have passed for three gentlemen.

He regained consciousness in the trunk of a car. They had put a bag over his head, and he was tied up like a sausage. Every time they halted, they put a bullet in his head, so he soon lost all sense of time. They moved him, probably for the crossing, into another car. He didn't see his captors, but it wasn't necessary, he recognized their methods...

They waited until Cardiff's Hub to take the bag off his head. There was a new director and he was no fun.

"You gone learn who the boss is. Trust me, that's the last time you ever try to run away, I'll make sure of that."

They locked him up in the incinerator and burned him to ashes. They did it, over and over, opening the door only to let oxygen enter. Jack remained on the ground between the terrible burners for several days, waiting for the next time.

Finally, they took him to his cell where he remained until his next mission. He had lost all sense of time... The war must have ended. Nobody had mentioned Mira. Cardiff's team didn't seem to know about her. Jack wasn't going to put them on her trail by asking about her...

He had told her a lot of things, but she was only 9 years old and Torchwood London was certainly still looking for her. He could do nothing, only endanger her. He could only hope someone would take care of her.

Jack had to wait until World War II to run away from Torchwood. After two of the mother house's agents had been contaminated by a very strange virus, they sent him to investigate a strange case in London. Torchwood One had to be put under quarantine. As Jack already knew who was responsible for that mess, he took the opportunity to step back into Jack Harkness clothes. As his mortal self fled away with Rose and the Doctor, he took his place.

However, at the end of the war, Torchwood claimed him back, and the Air Force turned him down. Jack had to wait until General Johnson was made Torchwood Three new director to obtain permission of few days off, enabling him to travel back to France. Johnson was his superior officer during World War II. When during the Blitz civilians of a mysterious organization came to claim one of his best pilots on the pretext he was an alien, he sent them to hell.

However, after the victory, while others continued to party, he was taken as a bandit. Johnson could no more oppose the interests of their country.

When in 1951, Johnson found himself at the head of Torchwood Three, he'd kept a minimum of respect for Jack. Jack had fought, and fought well.

But he knew now that Jack had never risked his life, not really, not permanently. Nevertheless he had saved more than one...

In short, from '51 to '63, Jack saw his conditions considerably improved. Not to the point he could use the staff's showers and toilets, but he was allowed to use the tap on his cell's floor, and he was allowed to spend some free time out, as long as he respected the curfew.

He had to wait until May of '53 to set foot in France. He took a ferry as a stowaway. , in order to save the little money he earned in the game.

Not to upset Johnson, nor attract the suspicion of his 'colleagues', Jack just played and won little...

He reached Charleville by hitchhiking and from there he walked in search for the Ursuline Convent. There, he presented himself as a nephew of Matthews, who had recently learned he had a cousin...

Mother Thibaude long reposed at the bottom of the small cemetery and no one could tell him what had become of Kate Matthews... Jack spent some days in the area, then he left and came back empty-handed.

...

After all this time, Jack still had no idea of what had become of his daughter. Because Mira was still at heart his daughter. The only thing he still had was the bracelet she'd made for him with some of her hair. One day he'd found it while moping the floor of the third basement. Perhaps it at been pulled off before he'd been put into the incinerator. Jack had hid it in his cell where no one ever went.

"Jack, are you all right?" Owen asked.

Jack was sitting at Tosh workstation lost in his thoughts.

"I didn't expect you to come back so soon. Something wrong in wonderland?"

"No, just something bothering me... Something I need to check," Jack said looking at Mainframe without bringing himself to send the search.

"If it's about your half Time Lord, or should I say Time Lady, you won't find her in there," Owen replied heading back to his lab.

"You've checked? You're sure?"

"If your boyfriend really has downloaded the whole of Torchwood One's memory in there, I can assure you London never managed to put their hand on her or any other Time Lord."

Mira had managed to escape from Torchwood. That was good news, even if he still didn't know what had happen of her.

End of the episode

To be continued with Ianto's secret memories


End file.
